Fate, Love and Second Chances
by Nightviz
Summary: Tragedy brought them together, perfection seemingly found between two imperfect beings. Bella is a nurse, Edward a firefighter-paramedic, both are in need of a miracle. Friendship grows into love, but a misunderstanding changes everything, and an already broken Edward hits rock bottom. Can they rebuild their lives together through the complications caused by their mistakes?
1. Chapter 1

FATE, LOVE AND SECOND CHANCES

Okay, I've overcome my fear of posting my story, so I'm putting it out there and I'm scared as hell. It's my first time, please be gentle with me.

My immeasurable thanks to my betas, kitchmill and Love of Escapism for making this readable.

A/N Part I. Warning: This story is rated M for a reason. It will touch upon some potentially sensitive and unpleasant issues. So if you don't like angst, please don't read any further.

Hopefully you will come to love this version of E&B, but if I've accomplished what I set out to do, there will come a time when you will hate them as well. Please don't be surprised when it comes time to hate, it's part of the story. Hopefully, in the end, they will be able to redeem themselves. Consider yourself forewarned. (BTW There is no cheating)

I hope you're still with me after the warning. If so, buckle your seatbelts, it's gonna be a rough ride.

A/N Part II. Chapter 1 is heavy with medical references. If interested, the A/N at the end has the meanings for the medical terminology used during this chapter.

We all know who owns these characters and it's certainly not me.

CHAPTER 1

Bella

The alarm clock blares at five thirty a.m. Never having been one to hit the snooze bar, my legs move over the side of the bed in an attempt to begin my day, hoping it turns out better than yesterday. My eyes still feel heavy after crying myself to sleep sometime after midnight.

Dismal emotions flood my mind as I step into the shower. I unwittingly begin to take inventory of my life, a daunting task to undertake, especially before the sun comes up.

I'm not happy; this is not how I envisioned my life would be when I turned twenty-six.

I'm able to notice a bright spot though, as I somehow momentarily transform into a glass-half-full kind of person; at least I know that I am happy with my choice of careers.

My job has been something I actually look forward to each day, especially since I attained the position as an RN in the Surgical Trauma ICU in one of the largest and most prestigious hospitals in the state. As a Level I Trauma Center, it's where you want to be if you ever find your life hanging in the balance, especially after a serious injury.

After having been a nurse on a telemetry floor for three years, I was ready for a change and a challenge. I studied hard, got my Critical Care RN certification as well as a couple of others, such as my Certified Emergency Nurse cert, to round out my specialty education. I then bid on the next full-time spot to come around. Although I did not have previous Critical Care experience, I got the job. Maybe it was because I had a connection. When the person you are dating—if you call it that—is close cousins with the boss, it can really help. But I like to think that it was because I deserved it.

I want to be sure my boss never has a chance to regret her decision to give me a shot. I try to go above and beyond with every opportunity I get.

I work hard, and I think that the chance she's given me has changed my life. I have been soaking up all the knowledge I can to provide my patients with the best care I am able to deliver. I have learned so much in the past year in the STICU, and most of the time, I truly feel as if I make a difference in the outcomes of my patients' lives. I know I have become a good nurse.

I find that my job always seems to put the struggles I must deal with in my own life into perspective. Many times, my patients are facing life and death situations, often due to a tragic twist of fate, or a split second poor decision that can't ever be unmade.

No one evades death, but I have seen the light fade from the eyes of young, otherwise healthy people far too often. I see the devastation in the faces of the family they leave behind. How can I feel sorry for myself when my job forces my own eyes open to the brutality of life for some unfortunate souls? It's all a matter of perspective, as long as I am able to maintain my own vision.

My personal life on the other hand...no. Maybe, I don't want to think about that now, but something has got to give. I don't know who I am anymore, but have I ever?

Growing up as the only child of a small town Police Chief, who found himself a single father after my mother left us, wasn't a life of privilege, but it certainly could have been worse.

My parents' marriage was horrible for as long as I could remember. When I was too young to know better, I just thought they argued a lot.

Just before my mother left us for good, I found out why the arguing was so frequent. My father was seeing other women. Yes, women plural—apparently, not just one. My mother could not handle her heartbreak and left us.

I understand why she left Charlie, but why me? Why would she leave me when I loved her so much? Why hasn't she ever tried to contact me? Will my love ever be enough for anyone, if it wasn't good enough for my own mother?

Last I heard, she crawled into a bottle and hasn't come out in years.

It is hard to decide who I should be angrier with: my mother who is a drunk or my father who is the one who drove her to it.

When I turned eighteen, my father sat me down for a heart-to-heart and told me exactly what happened to his marriage. After all the slammed doors and teenage angst that he endured, masking the anger I felt because he made my mother run away—or at least that is what I told him at every opportunity I could—I guess I was now old enough to hear the whole story.

Charlie and Renee fell in love, were married, and learned that they were going to be parents before they turned twenty. Although he now acknowledges that they were both too young, at the time, he said it felt right...at first.

He assured me that they wanted children and were married for six months before my mother became pregnant with me. Essentially, he made sure I knew that I was not the reason they got married, and I was not an accident.

It seems that the stresses of life, marriage, a baby, a new career, and a mortgage at such a young age started to take its toll.

My dad had not been promoted to Chief yet, and he was stretching every paycheck to the limit. A few years into their marriage, as I was out of diapers, my mom desperately wanted another child. That put my dad over the edge.

He made it clear that none of those were valid reasons for his actions, but he wanted to explain to me with a little more detail what was going on in his mind at the time.

When I was about five years old, my father started cheating. Infrequently, but cheating nevertheless. By the time I was ten, he became bolder and had a steady girlfriend on the side. By the time I was thirteen, he had two girlfriends along with his wife and daughter who rarely saw him anymore. His life was getting pretty complicated.

I remember the fights that used to happen at night when they thought I was asleep and after Dad came home from "working late" again at the station. I heard my mother crying; she cried a lot, but I never knew why. Now all the pieces were falling into place.

My mom left when I was thirteen, when I was a young, awkward teenage girl. It was right when I needed her most.

During his confessional, he didn't make it pretty, and he took one hundred percent of the blame. He said he was wrong. He saw what it did to his family and regrets everything that happened. A lot of tears were shed that day, but Charlie and I managed to begin to heal from our wounds.

Strangely enough, when my mother left, Charlie stopped dating. As far as I know, he hasn't been with a woman in the past thirteen years. I suppose it is his own form of contrition for his sins.

I know Charlie loves me. He is not the perfect parental figure, but he has always been there for me when I needed him. He doles out sage advice exactly when required, but otherwise he is a rather quiet man.

He may not have been a good husband, but honestly, he's not a bad father. I know he has my best interests at heart, and I'm sure he suspects something has been wrong with me lately. He would never come right out and ask anything about my love life unless I offered, and I wasn't offering.

Despite how he treated my mother, I have a deep respect for my dad; I would never want to disappoint him. I don't know how he would feel about my current relationship or, for that matter, lack thereof.

Even though I moved nearly two hours away from my childhood home, I visit Charlie as often as I can and call frequently. I love my dad; he has been the only constant in my life. I know he would be there for me, no matter what, but I think I have to face this problem on my own.

After running a bit too long in the shower, I make a mental note to shelf the self-pity for a more suitable time so I won't be late. My hair is being somewhat cooperative today, but it goes into a standard ponytail for work purposes.

My light green scrubs may not be all that flattering, but I wear them with a sense of pride, as only the nurses in the critical care areas wear that color. Comfortable sneakers in lieu of clogs complete the ensemble, and I am out the door.

With a coffee in hand, I hop into my old pickup truck; she's an antique really, but she just won't give up. With a little routine maintenance, she has never let me down. I can afford a new vehicle now, but why fix what ain't broken?

Keeping true to the promise I just made myself, my mind stays off my personal problems and wanders to work. After having had a couple days off, as my schedule is three shifts a week, each twelve hours, from seven a.m. to seven p.m., along with some occasional overtime, I wonder what awaits me as I arrive.

What new patients will there be?

Who, if any, have succumbed to their injuries since I was last there?

I wonder if Mr. Cafferty from Room 7 is still alive. He is in his early forties and in horrible shape to begin with. He is an alcoholic with the beginnings of liver disease as well as diabetes which he did not take such good care of. Last week, he crashed his quad into a tree while not wearing a helmet. Well, to be honest, the helmet wouldn't have helped all that much in his case; his head was spared, but his ribs, spleen, pelvis, and left femur were not. As serious as this may sound, he will not die from these wounds per se, since he was aggressively treated in time. However, it is possible that he could succumb to sepsis from what started as a bone infection due to the open leg fracture, or respiratory complications from the bruising to his lungs beneath those broken ribs.

Surviving the initial injury is only half the battle for most.

Walking through the main lobby, I notice a group of firemen standing off in the corner. Some look as if they have had a hard night. They look disheveled and concerned. Their faces smudged with soot wearing dirty yellow and black bunker pants and boots, with their red suspenders slung over a dark blue department T-shirt. Others are dressed in their everyday uniforms of a navy blue button down shirt and pants, and are seemingly none the worse for wear, but the looks on their faces show the same burden.

I arrive on my floor and notice a few more firemen in the over-filled waiting room as I pass. I don't think much of it, but I trust that I will probably need another cup of coffee before I look over my assignments for the day.

There's a restless energy around the unit today. It unnerves me slightly, but I could never be deterred. I savor my coffee for a brief minute before diving in head first. One last sip and I clock in, ready for my day.

The first patient on my list is one I had taken care of last week. I'm familiar with her as well as her family. She is a sweet old lady by the name of Mrs. Lowman, who took a nasty fall down some stairs and managed to break her pelvis. Her fracture is not too bad, but considering the fact that she is seventy-eight with diabetes and osteoporosis and is on blood thinners for a previous heart condition, it all complicated the situation and landed her here in my unit for a while. She is conscious, unlike many of the patients here who are often in medically induced comas, and she is scheduled to be released to a surgical step-down floor either today or tomorrow. Overall, a piece of cake.

I get to look at the rundown on my other patient, and from what I can see, he is the proverbial train wreck. So much for what I thought was going to be an easy day.

Cullen, Edward; thirty-one year-old male; no medical history; no medications; no allergies.

I briefly think to myself that his name sounds familiar. I believe there is a Dr. Cullen in the Emergency Department, and I wonder if they are related.

Injuries include multiple rib fractures, hemo-pneumothorax with a chest tube on right, pulmonary contusion, Grade III liver laceration, fractured right radius and ulna, and severe smoke inhalation. Intubated, received three units of blood, and has an oxygen saturation currently in the mid-nineties. A repeat on his carboxyhemoglobin level has returned to normal from the original numbers upon admission.

I quickly deduce he's the reason for the all the firemen I have seen today.

I see on the report that he was in surgery last night for the liver laceration and to stabilize his arm. He did deceivingly well.

I know with the multiple issues going on in his chest that he is far from out of the woods. Just severe smoke inhalation, let alone a significant pulmonary contusion on top of it, is enough of an insult to the body to cause life-threatening complications with gas exchange in the lungs. He is pretty stable now, but in a couple days, which is when the injury matures, the fun really starts.

I get report from Angela, the night nurse who was taking care of Room 4. She confirms all the information on his chart and gives me the rundown on all that has transpired with his care since admission.

"So where do I begin with Room 4? He's a city firefighter injured in a building collapse. From what I hear, there were fatalities involved as well, so he is a high profile patient. Public Relations may have to field inquiries from local newspapers, so just be aware that you may have to deal with that. You know there will be a lot of commotion around her for the next couple days."

"So that's why there were so many firemen milling around outside the hospital this morning. I initially thought the fire alarm had gone off again. I know they've been having a problem with the system. This place is going to be crazy today. I'll bet the mayor will be here soon. It's a great political opportunity to show his concern."

"Oh, but Bella, wait, there's more."

"Wait, he's not related to…"

She cuts me off. "Yep, Dr. Carlisle Cullen, Director of the Emergency Department. Your patient is his son."

"Ah, shit!" I say just little too loud. My head whips around; luckily, only Angela is within earshot.

I stand a bit straighter and try to remain professional.

Now it makes sense why they gave me the easy assignment of Mrs. Lowman as my other patient. This is even worse than I thought. It's every nurse's darkest fear to have to provide care to the family member of a big-wig doctor. I know firsthand how condescending, demanding, and arrogant doctors can be with any run-of-the-mill patient of theirs, let alone when that patient is their relative. I can't even imagine the hell that is awaiting me.

"No, Bella. Honestly, everyone I've met so far have all been really great, especially Dr. Cullen. I don't think it's going to be all that bad. They are overwhelmed, but humble."

Angela tells me about the interactions she had as I look over the chart. I breathe a sigh of relief. It is entirely possible from the looks of things that my patient will not survive. It will be difficult enough to deal with a dying patient without a difficult and obstructive family in the way.

I trust Angela's assessment of the situation. She's a good nurse and the closest thing I have to a friend. She oriented me to the unit, and since then, we have blown off some stress together a couple times at the pub. We talk occasionally on the phone, commiserating about work mostly.

She recently started working nights for the extra money with the shift differential, so I don't see her all that often anymore. This all started after she met the love of her life, Ben. She says they fell in love instantly, and within a few months, he asked her to be his bride.

Now she and Ben are saving up for a house and a wedding that is about a year away. I'm happy for her. She deserves something awesome in her life. Although I was surprised at the invitation, I gladly accepted the offer to be in her wedding party. I need a good friend, and Angela is the closest it seems I can come to that, and for her, I am truly grateful.

After a quick smile, which further eased my initial trepidation for this assignment, she continues. "Dr. Cullen, or Carlisle, as he asked me to call him last night, has been really very nice, not to mention nice to look at. Like father, like son." Angela's voice drops to a whisper toward the end.

"Oh yeah, now I remember who he is." As soon as Angela finishes her sentence, a light bulb switches on in my mind. Yes, the good doctor is a handsome man, but it's hard to believe he has a thirty-one-year-old son. I would have never guessed he was a day over fifty.

"How could you forget? Still have a lot on your mind, don't ya?" Angela asks.

Shaking my head, I answer, "Uh, well, you know, pretty much status quo. I'm trying not to think about it right now." I have given Angela the abridged version of my problems, but for the most part, I don't really feel comfortable confiding in anyone. I just have to shoulder my own burdens. I suppose I'm used to it.

Angela smiles and places a hand on my arm. "You know, when you are ready to talk more about it, I'll be there. Just don't call when I am sleeping between nine a.m. and three p.m. These night shifts are killing me!"

I chuckle and remind her that when we do go out for a couple beers and a good talk, I'll be the designated driver, since she will be able to close the bar like a pro, while I'll need to drink gallons of coffee for me to stay awake, and there will be no room left for any beer.

Professionalism returns to our conversation again, and I get more details about our patient. He arrived in the Emergency Department at around eight thirty last night in severe respiratory distress. There, he was intubated and placed on a ventilator. Looking at the information on how severe his condition was when he arrived, I'm amazed that he's still alive.

Angela fills me in further. "The Respiratory Therapist has been busy with him all night with nebulizer treatments and suctioning a lot of black soot from his lungs. In fact, they are in there now again. I overheard Dr. Caius speaking to Dr. Cullen last night about going right to a tracheostomy today. They are worried about the irritation and swelling in his trachea, and he is going to be dependent on that ventilator for a while so it will probably have to be done eventually anyhow. You may have to deal with that today as well."

While the tracheostomy hole will be closed when no longer needed, the scar it leaves behind will serve as a permanent reminder every time he looks in the mirror. That is provided he'll get the chance to do so again, which at this point, no one is so sure that will ever happen.

From what Angela could tell me, Mr. Cullen was trying to rescue a young boy from a house fire with another fireman when there was some catastrophic structural collapse. Amazingly, there were no burns on anyone; however, the boy as well as the other fireman died of their injuries in the Emergency Department last night just before nine o'clock.

I think to myself, "Yep, there it is!" It was around that time last night when I started feeling sorry for myself, oblivious to the struggles going on just outside my front door in the world around me. I can always count on my job to keep my relatively trivial problems in check when I see the struggles others have to go through just to make it to see the sun rise the next day.

From Angela's description, Edward is a strong thirty-one-year-old male in very good physical shape, which will be to his benefit. She also mentions that according to his family, he has always been in good shape, runs almost daily and goes to the gym at least three or four times a week, never smoked, no drugs and is an occasional social drinker. If he was a sedentary, overweight, smoker, who drank a couple six-packs of beer each weekend after downing a bag of chips while watching the game, this could be much more challenging to overcome.

I get the rest of the details on history and treatment plans and make my way into each of my patient's rooms.

Getting Mrs. Lowman situated first is quick and easy. The plan is that by midafternoon, she will be transferred to a step-down unit. A quick conversation with her daughter, who looks like she just recently woke up, informs me what the other night nurse caring for Mrs. Lowman went over in detail; it was a good night.

In our department, as in most critical care areas of our hospital, there are no strict visiting hours. The administrators believe that families should be able to be with their loved ones, especially if it could be the last time they see them alive. Many times the families designate one person to stay the night, and we accommodate the family members as best as we can. This can either be a great help or a terrible hindrance. The family does need to abide by some ground rules, so most of the time, they are not in the way. In fact, their presence may actually improve patient outcomes.

What the open visiting hours policy certainly does well is keep the families happy, and when families are happy, they tend to bring in goodies. Despite being on my feet almost continuously, I have gained almost five pounds since working in this unit. I was a little on the scrawny side to start with, so maybe it is for the best. As of now, however, I am on a self-imposed goody restriction diet.

Okay, here we go; Room 4, Cullen. Angela will meet me in the room momentarily to formally hand over the patient to me. In the meantime, I get a head start and walk inside.

As I walk up, I see the familiar face of Dr. Cullen looking down at my patient, brushing a hand over his son's hair and gently whispering too low for me to hear. He is alone in the room, and I briefly wonder just how many other family members will be in and out of Edward's room today. The first day or two of a new patient's admission is always the most stressful for everyone involved; it looks like I will have my hands full today, in more ways than one.

I clear my throat when I think he is done, in order to announce my presence. Attempting to sound confident and capable, I begin, "Dr. Cullen? I'm Isabella Swan. I'll be Edward's nurse today." He looks up and I note his eyes are tired, red and lined with tears.

While he is still remarkably handsome, the youthful looking older man I remember has aged considerably in the short time since I last saw him. I imagine all his years probably caught up with him last night, and then some.

I immediately feel my heart tug as I realize I interrupted this moment he had with his son. He attempts to compose himself, but his voice cracks as he says, "It is nice to meet you, Ms. Swan. Please call me Carlisle."

I smile at him and say, "Deal, but only if you call me Bella."

"Bella, it is then," he says with a clear voice, and it is then I am able to see a youthful flicker of light in his eyes as he smiles at me.

"I will let you go ahead and begin your day with my son." He continues, "I know they assigned him to you because the management staff here thinks you are an excellent nurse. Please take good care of my boy for me, Bella."

It was at that moment I watched Dr. Cullen become Carlisle, Edward's dad, as he resigned a lot of the care his son would receive to me. I briefly attempt to put myself in his shoes and realize that spoke volumes about the man.

It must take all his strength as a doctor to allow strangers to care for his son without his input. He must know in his heart that he is in no shape emotionally to be able to make some of the decisions needed to now care for Edward properly.

I know instantly that if the rest of the Cullens are anything at all like Carlisle, they are good people.

"I promise you, Doctor Cullen, and I promise you, Carlisle, I will care for him as if he were my own family."

In a sense, I let him know that I will care for him clinically as well as care for him as a human being. I think my choice of statements hit the nail on the head for him because he looks at me, smiles and closes the few feet that stand between us to give me a hug as he thanks me. Tears reappear, unshed in his eyes, before he turns and walks out the door.

I turn and make my way over to finally meet the man of the hour.

A/N: Here is a translation of some of the medical terms if you are interested. For the most part, this is the only chapter that has a lot of medical terminology. The following chapters are progressively less clinical.

A hemo-pneumothorax is a combination of air and blood that collects on the side of chest that sustains injury. It accumulates between the inside of the chest wall and the fragile lung tissue and it collapses the lung, not allowing for it to do its job. A chest tube gets inserted into the chest wall to remove the air and blood, allowing the lung to re-inflate.

A pulmonary contusion is the bruising of fragile lung tissue due to trauma. If serious enough it can cause significant issues such as a problem called ARDS which is a life threatening and difficult situation to manage.

Grade III liver laceration – Liver injuries are graded from I to VI with VI being most severe. The liver is a very vascular organ and significant blood loss can occur with injury.

The radius and ulna are the bones in your forearms.

Intubated means that a breathing tube is inserted through the mouth, or once in a rare while, for specialized reasons, through the nose, that is placed into the breathing tube and sits just below the voice box. It facilitates the use of a ventilator which is the machine that breathes for the patient.

Oxygen saturation is the percentage of hemoglobin (a part of red blood cells) that is filled with oxygen. About 95% or better in most circumstances is satisfactory. It is typically tested by a non-invasive finger probe.

Carboxyhemoglobin is the amount of carbon monoxide that is attached to the hemoglobin within the red blood cells, instead of oxygen. Carbon monoxide is the by-product of combustion, and of course is toxic to humans. It can also be tested with a finger probe as well as by a blood test.

A nebulizer treatment is a way to give one of a variety of medications in aerosolized form that goes directly into the lungs to treat breathing problems.

A tracheostomy is a surgical opening in the throat that takes the place of traditional intubation (the breathing tube). It is used in very seriously ill patients that will be intubated and in need of a ventilator for prolonged periods, or those with problems in their upper airway that prohibits the use of a less invasive breathing tube. It can be temporary or permanent.

Okay, there it is, Chapter 1. If you have a chance, I'd love to hear from you.

Either way, hopefully, you'll come back for the rest.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: So everyone is forewarned—this chapter has some potentially graphic descriptions of Edward's accident and also touches upon minor character death.**

**My endless thanks to my wonderful betas kitchmill and Love of Escapism for your help and guidance.**

Chapter 2

Bella

One of the first things I notice is a faint smell of smoke in the room. Although the night shift did a good job at cleaning him up, the odor lingers as if it is not yet giving up claim to its victim. In this infinitesimal quantity, it isn't necessarily unpleasant, but it is absolutely noxious and life threatening in the amount which Edward was exposed.

Glancing up at the monitor, I note nothing to be too far off the mark. Angela meets me inside and together we do some routine medication and treatment checks. A few minutes later she is off duty and Edward is all mine for the day.

I look down into the bed and although he cannot hear me, I begin speaking to him, as I do all my patients, conscious or not. I instantly notice how strikingly handsome he is.

He does take after his father; in fact, I think I'm hard pressed to remember ever noticing a more handsome man in all my life, even in his current condition. His hair is an unusual blondish-bronze hue and is currently wild and running off in every direction. That just isn't a common hair color for a grown man. A strong jaw with a dusting of golden stubble runs evenly across his beautiful face. Although he is a bit pale from his injuries, his lips are still pink. I'll bet his eyes are ice blue like his dad's.

I resist the urge to lift his eyelids to take a quick look. That would just be too creepy. Maybe later, I will check his pupils—in the interest of a complete physical assessment, of course.

"Edward, it is nice to meet you. My name is Bella, and I'm going to be your nurse." I find that my day goes faster when I am talking to my unconscious patients, so I routinely engage in completely one sided conversations about everything from their care, to my hobbies, to the weather. Sometimes when no one is within earshot, I even get into long tirades about my personal life. I find it rather therapeutic. It seems as though the only way I can get anything off my chest is to unload my problems onto my patients, they tend to be the only ones who won't judge me.

Pathetic, I know.

"I'm going to be rather intimately involved with every aspect of your care. Well, at least on the days that I'm working. But I often pick up overtime shifts, so don't give me a hard time, mister, or you'll be sorry." I often tease my patients as well.

I continue as I check his dressings and do a basic assessment of his condition and his treatment up to this point. I grab my penlight and assess his pupils. I know what I will find, because he is on a lot of heavy drugs to keep him unconscious and comfortable, but it is just a reason to see if my juvenile assumption of his eye color is correct. I believe my gasp is audible when I am met with brilliant bright green eyes even more stunning than his father's.

I compose myself and resume my speech. "Yes, Edward, I'll administer all your care. Unfortunately that means I will see you naked and even wipe your butt. Not every aspect of my job is that appealing, you know. But remember this: if you can't do it for yourself, you always want to be nice to the ones that have to wipe your butt."

I hear a small giggle in the doorway and notice we have company. A beautiful but exhausted looking petite woman with dark hair and bright blue eyes slowly approaches. Her smile fades as she notices the man in the bed. This stunning woman must be his wife as I notice a wedding band on her left hand as it rises to cover her mouth as she gets closer. I feel a bit guilty as I was just admiring her husband's eyes. Tears gather and flow onto her cheeks as she stands near his bed.

I speak first. "Um, hello, I am Edward's nurse, Bella. Are you Mrs. Cullen?"

She looks up at me with again with a slight smile on her lips. "No, Edward isn't married. Well, not anymore. I'm his twin sister, Dr. Alice Whitlock, but please call me Alice. It is nice to meet you, Bella."

Of course, yes, I see her resemblance to Carlisle and Edward now. Another doctor. I sigh internally at the prospect that she will probably be the one family member that is hyper-critical of Edward's care in place of Carlisle. Although I have hope since she asked me to call her by her name and isn't a stickler that I address her title. For all I know she is not a medical doctor.

She looks like she needs to get some things off her chest, and I offer her the chair next to Edward's bed. I have few minutes where I don't have anything too pressing to attend to, so we sit down together for a few minutes as I listen to her vent.

"My dad mentioned you. He said he is sure you will be taking good care of my brother. Right now he's going back to his office to be with my mom who is currently in no shape to visit. We've all been here since last night. We got to the ER shortly after Edward arrived in an ambulance."

She sighs heavily and begins unloading the events that transpired about twelve hours prior, but at this point, I'm sure they seem like a lifetime ago to Alice.

"My dad was already here, working late. He was just about to leave for home when my brother's best friend Emmett—who is also a fireman—called him and let him know that Edward was hurt pretty badly and was on his way into the ER. When my mom and I arrived…" She sobs as her mind's eye replays the events, "Edward…Edward couldn't breathe. At all. He was filthy from the fire. He was gasping and looked frantic. He was so short of breath, he didn't know what he was doing, so they had to tie down his hands. He was struggling against the restraints, and everyone that was trying to care for him, even though one of his arms was broken.

"One of the staff escorted us out to the family room after that. We didn't know what was happening. Mom held it together until a doctor came out quite a while later to give us more information. My dad wouldn't leave Edward's side.

The doctor told us Edward was injured pretty badly, and his lungs were damaged from the smoke. He said he was still in very critical condition and that they were doing everything possible to stabilize him. That's when Mom lost it. She is not able to handle all this very well yet.

"Emmett was in the family room with us and said that Edward and another fireman were trying to get a little boy out of the fire when part of the building collapsed. He said they fell through the floor after a wall gave away, landing on debris below."

She stops to compose herself once again before going on. "Emmett said that the guys initially found him unconscious with his mask off—he had the mask covering the boy's face."

I feel compelled to put my hand on Alice's. She accepts the gesture and holds on to me tightly. Looking upward toward the heavens for a few seconds and seemingly gathering more strength, she continues, "Another two pair of paramedics worked on the boy and Harry, who was the other firefighter with Edward. When they brought them in to the hospital, they both were in cardiac arrest. They continued to work on them, but the doctors pronounced them both dead a short time after they arrived here. Half the fire department is still here just waiting around hoping to see Edward. A lot of them are in the chapel, too, praying and staying together, waiting for any word we can give them.

"They still haven't been able to locate the boy's parents. They weren't in the building. It seems he was alone when the fire started."

No words would come to me at this point.

All I could manage was a slight whimper.

Alice stands to walk over to the bedside and looks down at Edward and says softly after kissing his forehead, "Mom wants me to tell you that she loves you so very much and to keep fighting. She will be in to see you later this afternoon. I love you too, little brother. Just lie there and get better. Just so you know, you have the prettiest nurse I have ever seen taking care of you."

She looks back to me with a watery smile and says, "If that doesn't make him get better, I don't know what will."

She walks up to me and wraps her arms around me in a tight hug. "Thank you so much for taking care of him."

She looks my right in the eyes and says, "My dad is right. You will take good care of Edward. He'll get better soon with your help."

Finally able to talk again, almost needing to compose myself after Alice's flurry of information, I return the smile she once again has on her face. "I'll do my best, I promise you."

"Thank you, Bella. His best friend Emmett and our cousin Rose, who is Emmett's wife, want to see him, so I'll send them in next."

As she leaves, a tall handsome man with wavy blonde hair enters the room and embraces Alice. She gives him a kiss and leads him to Edward's bedside. I re-immerse in myself into Edward's care, checking his IVs and vitals and try not to disturb their moment together.

The man speaks with a slight southern accent. "Listen, Edward, I know you can hear me, so stop sulking and get better. Your family needs you somethin' awful."

I turn to leave the room when Alice stops me. "Bella, I'd like you to meet my husband Jasper."

"Nice to meet you, ma'am," he states.

"You can call me Bella. It is a pleasure to meet you, Jasper." I smile and look his way. Geez, another good looking person. I can't wait to meet the average folks in this family!

I've always felt incredibly mousy and self-conscious with beautiful people around, but just now I remember what I'm here for, and it is not my fashion sense or looks. I stand a little taller with more confidence and excuse myself quickly from the room for some supplies.

After stopping in Mrs. Lowman's room to administer her morning medications and start on some charting, I arrive in Room 4 with everything I need for Edward's care.

I am stopped dead in my tracks by a gorgeous blonde who is standing nearly six feet tall, but she is dwarfed by the man next to her. He's a hulk of a man with the face of an angel, despite the grim surroundings. It's obvious they've both been crying.

"You must be Edward's nurse, Bella," he states, wiping his eyes and composing himself rather quickly, seemingly happy for a reason to do so.

"Damn! Alice is right! Edward would like you if he wasn't all drugged up and out of it."

I blush at his statement but divert the topic. "You must be Emmett and Rose," I say with a smile.

Rose reaches up and playfully slaps the back of his head, calling him a buffoon. The heaviness of the moment when I first arrived is all but gone. She turns to me and shakes my hand while apologizing for her husband's behavior.

I go to shake Emmett's hand as well, but he tells me to put that thing away and gives me a bear hug. He seems to be quite a friendly character despite his intimidating size. His wife just sighs again; telling me that I should consider her apology as a blanket statement for the entire day. I can't help but laugh a bit.

Well I'll be damned. I usually get one or two hugs a week. Now I've gotten three in one day, and it's before noon even!

Although here in front of me were more beautiful people, all part of Edward's family, I don't feel at all insignificant. They are looking to me to provide a large part of the care that it will take to make their family whole again by giving them back Edward. I'm up for this challenge. I don't feel small and mousy, in fact, I feel confident.

While I work Emmett explains that he is "Eddie's BFF"—his words, not mine. Rose is Edward's cousin from his mom's side, but Edward has always been more like a brother to Rose. He goes on to say that about six years ago, matchmaker-Alice had set up him and Rose on a blind date saying they would be perfect together. A week later, when Emmett told Edward that he was in love with Rose, Edward slugged him in the mouth and knocked out a tooth. He shows me which one was the fake in his bright toothy smile. He mentions that after the punch, Edward didn't talk to him or Alice for a month.

I laugh at the story and continue my work as they spend some time with Edward. It is clear to me that Edward is loved. But I am surprised that there was no fiancée or at least a significant other that was up to visit him yet.

Maybe she is in the on-deck circle, so to speak. It is this way with a lot of families. They coordinate their visits as sort of tag-teams. As one or two leave another one or two show up.

From what I understand however, there are many people waiting for word on Edward in the family room: co-workers, neighbors and friends. Not all are able to see him, as the unit tries to balance the amount of stimulus a patient receives with the families need to visit their loved one, especially in the first couple days after admission when emotions run the highest. But somehow just being together seems to give them some sort of strength.

Emmett and Rose quietly make their way out of the unit. A short time later an extraordinarily pretty young girl –definitely not yet a teenager, but maybe around nine or ten years-old—and an older, but beautiful and elegant woman accompany Carlisle to Edward's room. It's not common that pre-teen children are allowed onto the unit, but I suppose Carlisle pulled some strings. Both women, young and old, have the same color hair and eyes as Edward.

This woman must be Edward's mom.

I turn to greet Carlisle again. "Bella, this is my wife Esme and our granddaughter Kate, Edward's daughter. Esme, Kate, this is Bella, the nurse I spoke to you about."

They both offer me weak, tearful smiles. Esme seems to be barely holding herself together. Edward's daughter looks overwhelmed, and I'm sure just wants to see her dad.

"It is a pleasure to meet both of you," I start. "I wish it were under better circumstances, however. I want you to know that Edward is holding his own right now. He seems to be a very strong man, and I know he certainly has incredible support from his family and friends. I'm sure that will give him even more strength. I was just stepping out. Please stay as long as you need."

Moments after I leave the room, I hear muffled sobs, as I'm sure the composure that both Edward's mother and daughter tried to hold onto in my presence slips away as they stand helpless over his bed.

**FL&SC**

**A/N Part II: In case you were wondering, this story will update about once a week, maybe more. It's about 95% written and there are a good amount of chapters, so hopefully you are in for the haul. **

**Thank you for reading and if you have a chance, I'd love to hear from you.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: There is mention of some physical abuse in this chapter. On my personal scale of one to ten on the angst-o-meter, I would consider it a two. But that's me, others may feel differently. **

**The story takes an unexpected turn and all I can say is I hope you are all still with me after this chapter. It's only chapter three, but maybe you are invested enough not to flounce it yet? If so, have faith. **

**So many thanks to kitchmill and Love of Escapism for making this readable. I do like to fiddle with it, so any mistakes are my fault alone. Thank you, Dancewithmetonight for my story banner. **

Chapter 3

Bella

For the next three weeks, and then some, I watched Edward begin to heal. I must admit that within the first and second week or so of his ICU stay, there were many times where I was afraid to leave after my shift was over. I feared that the instability in his clinical condition would continue to deteriorate, and I would return to work the next morning to an empty room.

His lungs were so damaged that we could not even move him much or he would decompensate. Before it got any worse, he was moved into a specialized bed that kind of sandwiched him and would slowly move and rotate him for us so he would not develop pressure sores from lying in one position too long. That would almost certainly lead to an infection that in his weakened and compromised state he was in no shape to deal with.

At one point, the doctors were pretty sure if his lungs got any worse there wouldn't be anywhere else to go clinically. The ventilator he was on was as advanced as they come, but there was a definite point of no return that no amount of present day technology would be able to overcome. A couple weeks ago, we were almost at the end of that rope.

Now as I look at him, I can smile, knowing soon he will be strong enough to come off the ventilator that has sustained his life and be able to breathe on his own. It's such a drastic improvement from the fine line he walked between life and death, only a couple weeks ago.

When he was at his most critical, regardless of how competent and caring the other nurses providing his care were, I still wanted to be there for him. I felt compelled to be the one to make sure everything that could be done was being done and nothing was missed. I was just about obsessed with his care, almost feeling as if I couldn't trust anyone else.

The other nurses did their job impeccably, but nevertheless they didn't seem as invested in his recovery as I was. To everyone else, he was just a part of their job. It seemed to me that they thought of him as "the patient in Room 4," whereas I cared for him as if he were a part of my family.

I couldn't let the Cullens down. Somehow I felt a connection, a strong bond to this man, a veritable stranger who hasn't so much as been able to open his eyes, which I have never felt with anyone before.

He has become so special to me. I can't describe it. I don't even think I want to try.

Maybe what I feel for Edward is from his family who has shown me so much of who he is that it's almost as if I have known him all my life.

From all their stories of Edward growing up, they have painted a picture of an exceedingly bright—but quiet—young boy who, at the same time, was adventurous and cunning. That young boy grew to a responsible and honorable man.

Most of the accounts of Edward's childhood were told to me by Esme and Carlisle. They are two dedicated and proud parents with an extraordinary son.

Esme is the quintessential mom, warm and loving. Not that I would remember what having a real mom would feel like, but I know Edward and Alice are very fortunate. She is a lovely woman who dotes on her son any chance she gets.

Some of the most entertaining of Esme's stories are from when Edward and Alice were very young.

She assured me that although Edward was always the quiet one, still waters run deep, and he has a mischievous streak a mile wide.

While sitting with Esme at Edward's bedside one afternoon, she talked about Edward and Alice's youth. Edward's condition was now rock-solid stable and I had more time to indulge in conversation with his family. The steady rhythm of the ventilator and the alarming of machines in other rooms of the unit were now commonplace to her, and she was at ease within what has been her second home since Edward's accident. Her eyes sparkled and the smile never left her face as she told me about her children's escapades from over twenty years ago.

"Edward was a typical little boy. He loved being outside, climbing, running, jumping, swimming, always moving. Once he learned to walk at nine and a half months, I swear, the next day, he was running and he hasn't stopped since. It took Alice another two months to become mobile and by then, Edward was more like a monkey than a boy. It was a very exhausting time in my life. Luckily, Alice was more content to watch her brother climb and fall than to emulate him. If I had identical boys, I would have had a nervous breakdown. "

"Every sport came easy to Edward. He was so agile and strong, but always getting hurt. Stitches, bruises, sprains and an occasional broken bone were common place. He was a regular patient at the ER. Good thing our pediatrician was a good friend of the family. With the frequency of Edward's injuries, any other doctor would raise an eyebrow and probably suspect that he was being abused. Alice, on the other hand, was a girly-girl, loving tea parties and dress-up. She wouldn't tolerate getting dirty or sweaty. The two of them never really meshed as playmates, yet aside from the usual bickering, it was obvious they loved each other. But Edward could be very wicked to his sister if provoked."

One of my favorites stories is the one she told me that happened when the twins were eight years old.

"One summer night, Edward put over a dozen night crawlers in Alice's bed just before she went to sleep. All holy hell broke loose when Alice got under the covers with just a pair of shorts and a tank top and squished them when she lay down.

"No one in the house was able to get to sleep until almost midnight with all the screaming, crying, and showering that went on with Drama Princess Alice.

"Alice was crying because, in Alice's words, no matter what she did, she still felt like she had worm guts all over her. She was screaming she would never ever be clean again, and that Edward should be sent away to military school immediately and forever."

I could see this happening in my imagination, with a tearful, dramatic little Alice and a snickering, wily little Edward.

Esme explained the back story to that little incident first. "When Edward was a toddler, he was a quick learner, especially when it came to potty training. He was out of diapers much sooner than his sister. Esme believed it was because she used to play a game with Edward that he loved so very much. It was called Sink a Cheerio. He loved going potty because of it.

"He would pretend the Cheerios were battleships and they were on fire, his job was to put out the fire. Even back then he loved the idea of being a fireman and putting out fires, and he would pretend to do it every day with a few Cheerios.

"There would also be hell to pay if Alice wanted Cheerios for breakfast, which of course, she proclaimed them as her favorite. Probably because it upset her brother so much."

Her eyes lost their focus on the world around her for a few seconds. Memories then claimed her vision as she smiled reverently at that moment in time replaying in her mind.

She gathered her thoughts and continued, "One day when they were about eight years old, Alice saw Edward in the bathroom with a box of Cheerios and instantly remembered back to when they were toddlers. Apparently he still found it amusing to pee on breakfast cereal once in a while. She thought it was hysterical that he still played an old potty training game and told him she was going to tell his friends. That was a bad move on her part.

"So essentially the night crawlers were payback, and he promised there would be more when she least expect it if she told anyone.

"Edward was grounded for two weeks, and since then, Alice refuses to eat Cheerios and has had an irrational fear of worms ever since."

Warmth and happiness filled my heart at the reiteration of her now laughable and precious memories of her children.

Then Esme said—and I quote, "Some things never change. He just uses a bigger hose now." I stood there speechless, probably with my mouth wide open, knocked for a loop, until I grasped that she was talking about using a fire hose, not his penis. We just fell apart, hysterically laughing when she realized I initially misunderstood what she meant.

That was one of the first of many times I felt just a little closer to Edward through his family.

Carlisle loves to talk about his son as well and did mention to me that he was initially disappointed that Edward did not follow in his footsteps to become a doctor. However, you could see the pride in his eyes when he talks about the man Edward has become. He has bent my ear about that quite frequently.

One day Carlisle related to me other insights into Edward's life. "Edward was hired as a city fire fighter shortly after graduating college where he was a biology major, essentially, pre-med, summa-cum-laude—of course." The smile on his face for the pride he has in his son was unmistakable.

"He took the civil service exam for the fire department in his senior year of college as a dare by Emmett, who he became friends with when they were freshmen. It's a written exam, a psychological screening and a physical agility test. Edward and Emmett both did well in all aspects of the exam and were placed very high on the list of prospective candidates.

"Emmett had always dreamed of becoming a firefighter, but got a business degree to keep his parents satisfied. I suppose, in many ways Edward did the same. Emmett sold Edward on taking the chance. It wasn't a hard sell, despite Edward's career path of becoming a doctor, he had always like the idea of being a fireman. They were both offered jobs with the department within a few months after graduation."

Carlisle explained that at the time he was far from pleased that Edward chose to give up becoming a doctor. That caused a considerable amount of strife within his family, mainly between him and Edward.

At the time Alice was in the process of becoming the successful pediatrician she is today. Carlisle and Esme were very proud and expected the same out of Edward.

Carlisle said "Nevertheless, Edward seemed to have found his calling as well, just not the one I had initially hoped. While his primary role within the Fire Department was a firefighter on a truck company, he was sent for training as an EMT, and then he went on to become a Paramedic a while later. While working for the FD he also got himself a part time second job as a medic with the city's EMS service that was independent of the Fire Department, providing Emergency Medical Services. He excelled in the job.

"After the initial shock, I slowly began accepting my son's decisions."

He is now proud to say that Edward has become a great medic. He took the job seriously, earned respect and became a mentor to others. Carlisle now accepts that Edward's job as a paramedic is the closest he will ever be to becoming a doctor. I was told that after a few years, Edward's reputation as a solid clinician grew; he then resigned from his ground EMS job with the city once he was accepted in a part time position as a Flight Paramedic.

He explained the program he works for covers the south western part of our state using a helicopter that ground paramedics request if they encounter a patient who is badly injured or in need of a specialty care center that is far enough away that the prolonged transport time by ground would be detrimental to that patient's outcome. Other than traumas, Edward dealt with patients having a heart attack or a stroke, where early onset of definitive care is crucial for positive outcomes. He also transported critically ill patients from smaller hospitals to larger ones, such as the one where he is currently a resident.

When Carlisle mentioned that Edward was also a flight paramedic, I seemed to recall a number of occasions where we, in the STICU, have received patient transfers from smaller hospitals that were transported to us by air. I'll be damned, but I do recall at least one instance where I was the receiving nurse for a patient that I am sure I got from Edward and his partner.

I can't quite remember who the sending facility was, nor can I remember the patient, but I damn well remember a gorgeous auburn haired, green eyed flight medic with a crooked smile in an olive drab flight suit. It was Edward. I'm giddy with the knowledge.

When he wakes up, I want to mention that I remember him, and so do all the female nurses here in the department. I want to tell him that he caused quite a ruckus amongst all the ladies each time he showed up in his flight suit looking all "Top Gun sexy" as Angela called it at the time. But then again, maybe I won't, because I am sure he gets that reaction no matter where he goes.

Then there is his twin sister Alice; what can I say about Alice? She is an amazing woman who is vibrant and energetic, and we hit it off immediately—despite her bouncing and hugging me each time she sees me.

She is anything but the arrogant doctor type I thought she was going to be the first time I saw her.

Alice brought me out of my self-restricted shell, and we have become fast friends.

Her tales about Edward, half of the time, cast him as the annoying baby brother, even though he is only a few minutes younger than her. The other half of the time she touts grown-up Edward as the all-around great guy, loyal to a fault, kind, loving, and excellent husband material. Sometimes I have the suspicion Alice is trying to set me up with her unconscious brother. I laugh to myself since I know I've had worse dates.

I have become closer with Rose as well, even though she was a little slower to warm up to me than Alice. Alice explained that while her and Rose are close, Rose and Edward have a unique relationship.

Rose thinks of Edward as a big brother and her hero. I don't really know much about it, but he apparently helped Rose out of some rough times after her father died and when she had some problems in high school with a guy named Royce. Since then Rosalie is a fierce protector of Edward and his family. She doesn't let people in too often, and Alice assured me that Rose opened up to me in record time.

It seems that for what I have done to help Edward and his family, Rose has accepted me as member of the group. She was apparently the most difficult to get past, according to Alice, and feels as if she is now indebted to me, as does the rest of the family.

Alice has been so nice to me that since I am currently looking for a new apartment, I am seriously considering renting out the apartment her and Jasper own. It's a converted carriage house behind their main house.

The property is beautiful, on five acres with a huge manicured lawn and old oak trees that are a couple hundred years old. It is a grand old home and beautifully appointed. The carriage house is two stories; the first is a three car garage with a workshop, and the upper floor a sprawling one bedroom apartment which will be available next month. It is in an affluent neighborhood and Alice tells me that her parents live close by as well.

The apartment I am in now is small and cramped. It's on the top floor of a three family house, and my landlord is the exceedingly overweight, creepy and socially awkward resident of the second floor who wears food stained shirts and his pants hiked up way too high. His mother, sister and their multiple cats are occupants of the first floor.

Last month I came home to find him in my apartment with the excuse that he needed to change the smoke detector batteries. Since then I have been looking for tiny cameras, and the paranoia of feeling as if I am being watched has replaced the comfort of home. My lease is month to month, so I am out of there ASAP.

I know this assignment with Edward is getting dangerously personal. I recognize I'm becoming very close with his family and even more so, very emotionally invested in his well-being, but I can never admit that to anyone or I would no longer be permitted to be his nurse. I promised myself if I was ever unable to provide proper care to Edward due to my attachment, I would remove myself from the assignment.

I know there is a disorder for what I am feeling; it's called "Florence Nightingale Syndrome." It is when a nurse seems to develop strong feelings for a patient who is their charge. I'm aware that Edward is only a patient whose well-being is entrusted to me just like the hundreds of others I have been in charge of in my career. I have to acknowledge that once Edward is better and no longer in need of the care I provide him, these feelings will subside.

While I don't really consider myself a religious person, I do believe in God or a higher power, if you will. I don't go to church regularly, nor am I truly devoted to any one organized religion, yet there was a time I found myself praying for Edward nightly. At times, that seemed to be the only thing left to do.

On more than a few instances in the quiet darkness of my bedroom, I let my mind wander down into a worst case scenario, and I panicked. I just could not imagine how I would react if he were never to recover, if the strength I have been told that lies within him were to be extinguished by the complications of his injuries.

My boss, Siobhan sat me down at one point to ask how I was doing with my assignment. We both knew exactly what she was asking. Getting emotionally attached to your patients can be a legitimate problem in a critical care setting. It is unusual for a nurse to provide one patient with as much care as I was providing Edward, but rules were bent to accommodate a request from Carlisle. He wants me to care for his son whenever I'm scheduled to work and whenever possible, on a one-to-one basis.

Carlisle has a good amount of clout in this hospital, so this special request was granted. He had handpicked all staff that had any access to his son. When you are a physician with as many connections in this hospital as Dr. Cullen, you know first-hand which doctors and specialists you would want taking care of your family.

I am grateful and proud that I was chosen by my boss as one of Edward's nurses. I even find myself intentionally working a lot of overtime, filling holes in the schedule just to escape my own problems and care for Edward and his family. At my job, I found my purpose.

I downplayed Siobhan's concern and assured her I was still able to distance myself from the situation. Normally, I couldn't tell a lie to save my own life, but somehow, I managed so I could continue to play a part in saving Edward's.

I told her everything was fine. She nodded, giving me a feeble smile, and switched topics asking me how everything else was going. I unconvincingly told her everything was going well, but unfortunately, she knows more details about my private life than I would ever willingly tell anyone, even Angela. It's the one thing that I wish was different about my job. But since I am dating the boss' cousin, and they are very close, I guess to some extent what I do off hours is not as private as I would like here at my place of business.

Siobhan is a good boss though, both personally and professionally. She didn't hover and she didn't pry or get too personal, at least not at this point.

Nevertheless, I'm afraid. I have never bonded with a patient or family in this way before. Well, let's be honest here, to an extent, I've bonded with Edward because of his family. Essentially, he just lies there as I run myself ragged, carrying out the orders that the doctors had written.

I care for Edward, and in turn, I care for his family. But although I try, I can't deny that aside from everyone else, I genuinely feel something for him as a man—not just as a patient.

During some quiet time, when Edward is cared for and settled, I like to talk to him, hold his hand and tell him how well he's doing and that everyone is proud that he is getting stronger.

A strange thing started happening during those quiet moments. It almost feels like a tiny current tingling on my skin where we are touching.

It's a feeling that's hard to describe. I thought it was all in my head at first, as if I maybe didn't get enough sleep, but it has happened numerous times.

At one time, I came up with the explanation to myself that maybe it could be caused by all the machines he is hooked up to, and what I'm feeling could simply be just a slight vibration. At shift change one day, I asked Angela about it, and she said she couldn't feel anything.

To be thorough, I researched Florence Nightingale syndrome; I couldn't find a side effect that included tingling anywhere.

Then I thought, oh hell, I don't know, maybe it's because he's really handsome? But now I think I am just going a bit loopy because honestly, no matter how handsome he is, after nursing him back to health in the ICU for almost a month, dealing with every bodily function that he cannot, I can think of plenty of times that taking care of Edward would be considered the furthest thing from attractive. And I have a lot of time logged with Edward.

Tingly feeling or not, I just wish I had someone to talk to about how close and protective I feel toward Edward. I can't risk talking to Angela, since she was like a mentor to me. I don't want to let her down; plus if she still somehow feels responsible for my performance, she could potentially go to the boss. I don't want that.

The LAST person on earth I could go to with this problem is Jessica, my boss' cousin who also happens to be my girlfriend.

Yeah, she is the reason for most of the complications in my life.

She should be the one to support me, help me through difficult times etc., etc. But this would put her over the edge. She is wicked jealous of anyone that I have any contact with. If I told her that I felt a strong connection to my comatose patient and his family, she would probably try to sneak in the hospital and pull his plug first, then tell her cousin to have me fired, second.

Other than Jessica's constant overwhelming jealousy, my personal problems with my love life have settled down somewhat. Essentially, I'm currently in a rut. I can't be sure which is better, emotional turmoil or complete apathy.

I really care for Jessica; we have been together for quite a while, but I don't feel like I'm in love with her. There's no spark, no passion any longer. I'm just comfortable, I guess. I'm forever grateful to her for putting in a good word for me with Siobhan a while ago. Jess and I were just friends at the time; it was before we started dating. Some days I really think that is probably the reason why I got my job. But regardless, no amount of gratitude can sustain a relationship for long.

We're like best friends who argue a lot and occasionally give each other orgasms. Well, that is how I feel about it; she tells me that she loves me and I need to let her into my heart, but I really don't know how. I thought these things would happen on their own. I don't know how I could somehow, subconsciously block her love.

When I was a little girl, I always imagined my grown-up self as married with children, living a perfect little life behind my own white picket fence. Ahh, the innocence of youth.

It is possible that Jessica may be right in her angry assessment of me a while ago after a horrible argument, when she said that I'm just a confused straight girl, playing with her emotions.

If I don't try harder, our relationship probably will not last too much longer. I won't be the one to end it, however, because at least with her, I'm not alone. Hell, when I think about it like that, I suppose that sounds pretty bad if the only reason why I am still in a relationship is that it's better than being alone. But who knows…this may be as good as it will ever get for me.

I guess I'm too much of a coward to end what could be the best relationship I'll ever have, for the desire of some fairytale that won't ever exist for me. I know it's not fair dragging her along for too much longer while I figure this out, but I guess I'm being selfish.

Aside from her being irrationally jealous of everyone I come into contact with, she is a good person and we get along really well otherwise, especially if her friend Samantha is not around. Unfortunately the more problems we have, the more time she spends with Sam.

Ultimately, I think Jess and I would have been better as friends than lovers.

What I do know, in the very limited experience I have had in a relationship with either gender, is that I don't want to be emotionally or physically abused. Even if that is my only requirement, I don't seem to have much luck.

As messed up as my relationship with Jessica is, in comparison with my past relationships, it is definitely the healthiest.

I met James as a freshman in college.

Sure I dated plenty of boys in high school, but I managed to keep my v-card throughout those hormone saturated nights…barely. I never really cared enough for anyone to give up that part of me to any of those boys, but damn if I wasn't tempted a couple times.

With James, I fell in love, or so I thought.

Charlie wasn't such a big fan of James when I brought him home with me on my first spring break as a freshman in college, but I wasn't deterred. I was sure Charlie would hate any guy I introduced to him; no one was ever going to be good enough for his little girl.

I thought James was different, charming and charismatic. I later came to find out he was mostly manipulative and controlling. James wanted to remove my ability to think or make decisions for myself. From what I wore to what I ate, to how I spent my time, he wanted a say in everything. He was so good at slowly infiltrating every aspect of my life that I found myself gradually and voluntarily losing my free will.

But the control freak in him didn't stop there.

The first time he put his hands on me, it was in the form of a slap across my face. I was shocked, scared and angry.

He was repentant and profusely apologetic, treating me like a princess for weeks after that incident. That is, until I pissed him off again.

The next incident happened because he thought the sweater I was wearing was too tight, and he told me to change. When I didn't move quickly enough for him, he forcefully took it off me and brought it into the kitchen where he cut holes in it with a knife so I could never wear it again.

It eventually came to a point where I was the one apologizing for making him angry in the first place.

He even blamed me when he told me he had to take his affections elsewhere. He said that I was a lousy lay and would never be enough for him, or any other man, for that matter. He repeatedly told me that there was just something lacking in me as a woman. That is when something finally snapped, and I realized what was happening to me.

The love I thought I felt for James instantaneously evaporated as if it were never there in the first place. My heart was walled off and the barrier was impenetrable.

I began resisting; unfortunately that was when things got worse.

I did not want him in my life any longer, he was not going to break me like the fragile little girl he thought I was. I had to get out of that relationship somehow, but I was not stupid enough to just tell him I wanted out and think he would be fine with the notion. It had to be done properly or I legitimately felt that it could potentially cost me my life. I knew I was in danger but I wasn't sure I knew what to do next.

My dorm-mate, Heidi noticed something wasn't right. The bruises on my body could not be attributed to my inherent clumsiness, as James initially tried to insinuate.

After a serious heart to heart, Heidi gave me ideas on a plan to leave James. It first took the form of a counselor at the college and then in the form of Charlie.

Charlie's help was rather effective and instantaneous. Charlie had him arrested for domestic battery the day after James "got jumped" by an "unknown attacker" right there on campus and found himself in the Emergency Room with bilateral broken knees and jaw amongst other injuries. A restraining order was issued and I never had any problems with James again.

The next serious relationship I was in was with Mike. He was in a couple of my science classes in my junior year. We hit it off pretty quickly. Another charmer and another abuser, but his abuse did not leave any physical reminders on my body.

Breaking me down emotionally was a slower process, but Mike was a pro.

I was just never good enough. Nothing I did was right; I was hopeless, frumpy and incompetent. Especially in bed. I slowly believed this to be true. First James, now Mike; they both said the same things about my sexual ineptitude.

I stopped faking orgasms with Mike after a while only because I realized he was never really concerned if I was satisfied anyway. I found out he was cheating on me as well. He said that other women were at least receptive to his touch, and he called me a frigid bitch.

James was no magician between the sheets either, but at least sometimes he would use his mouth first, which seemed to be the only way I could ever seem to find any enjoyment from sex. While both James and Mike complained that I was lacking as a woman, I realized they never seemed to have a problem getting off; in fact usually it was over in the blink of an eye.

How could I enjoy something that lasted only a minute or two tops, if I was lucky?

I was thrilled to dump Mike shortly after his disclosure that I was just not enough to satisfy him, and I regret not doing it sooner.

I made a promise to myself that no one would ever make me lose sight of what is best for me again. I am a strong and independent woman who believes I have a lot of love to offer the right person, and I will never involve myself in a relationship where I have to forget who I am in order to please someone else.

College is the time for sexual experimentation, or so I have been told. I took advantage of that adage after my break up with Mike and found myself in my first sexual relationship with a woman. I was drunk at first and it only lasted for a weekend, but at least I had a good time, and it was easier to be comfortable with it than I thought.

Carmen knew she was my first, and that Sunday night we talked about everything that had happened pretty extensively. I was grateful to her for handling everything the way she did. The shame and embarrassment that I thought I would feel the morning after was nowhere to be found. I have a lot of respect for Carmen and still consider her a friend.

I could never bare my soul to Mike or James; I was just not comfortable with them. Then how was it possible to be able to share that kind of honesty with Carmen, who I had just met a couple of nights ago in a college bar?

While women could be incredibly cruel to one another in competition for a man, friendship between women can be a nurturing experience. Women just know what makes each other tick. I suppose this is why I eventually found myself in a relationship with Jessica.

I feel comfortable with women as friends, and I can find some form of pleasure with them as lovers, but I'll be damned if I don't still find men visually appealing.

I don't really believe I am gay. If I am to be pigeon-holed into a category, I suppose I would consider myself open to either gender at this point in my life. Or maybe I am just waiting for myself to grow up and make a decision once and for all.

Bisexual, hmmm, I don't like that word; I don't think Charlie would be entirely comfortable with that explanation either, therefore he remains blissfully unaware.

**A/N: Anyone still there? **crickets****


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thanks to anyone still out there reading after Chapter 3. Also, thanks to my betas kitchmill and Love of Escapism for all their help. Again, if you find some errors, chances are, it's because I fiddled with it. Thank you DanceWithMeTonight with help from SPRSPR's Digital Art for my cover page.**

**For the first time, I'd like to introduce to you, ornery Edward. He gets nicer, I swear.**

**In case it wasn't clear after all this time, I should mention, SM owns it all.**

Chapter 4

Bella

Today is a big day.

We will try to wean Edward from the ventilator so he can begin breathing on his own. The first step will be to lower the amount of sedation he is on in an attempt to prompt him to breathe completely on his own. The rest of the process is all on him.

This is huge. He will be cognizant of his surroundings for the first time in almost a month.

The first week and half or so after his admission, he began to slowly make progress which was no small feat. In retrospect, I asked Dr. Caius about his current condition and he believes that Edward's recovery has been nothing short of miraculous.

He gives the credit of this veritable miracle to Edward's prime physical health at the time of his injury as well as the fact that for the most part, only one lung sustained the inhalation injury from the smoke. His right lung was almost fully collapsed due to injury from the fall.

Dr. Caius says he is certain that if both lungs sustained the same amount of damage from the smoke, then Edward would have undoubtedly died.

I want this day to go flawlessly. Hope is running high.

In these past three weeks or so, I have watched Edward's family regain their strength right along with him.

Esme is now the picture of grace and composure as opposed to the broken women I met the first time around. She gives off a warm radiance as the matriarch of her family.

Carlisle seems to have regained his youthful appearance. His eyes are no longer weary. Apprehension and grief no longer furrow his brow. He has even gone back on a very part time basis to his job in the Emergency Department as of recently, allowing himself a brief distraction from the once constant vigil he and Esme held near their son's bedside.

Alice, Jasper, along with their seven-year-old daughter Jane, and Edward's daughter Kate are the glue holding Esme and Carlisle together.

The kind of adversity that each of them have experienced over the past few weeks tends to either tear families apart or bring them closer together. It is clear that as a group, the Cullens remain resilient and are holding strong together.

Rose and Emmett are just about daily visitors as well. Emmett seems like everyone's big brother, including mine. In fact he has taken to calling me 'little sis' or 'Bells' if the feeling moved him. He is really a sweet and kind man in spite of his intimidating size. Rose has become much more laid-back as well.

Upon my arrival at work, I am informed by the unit clerk that Esme, Carlisle, Alice, Rose, and Emmett are already waiting.

Jasper is home getting Jane off to school. He will be in a little later, which is reassuring since he seems to have a calming influence. He is a doctor also, a psychiatrist by trade.

Tanya will be picking up Jane and Kate after school to meet everyone here. Hopefully by then Edward will be awake and able to interact to some extent with his whole family.

Angela, who was Edward's nurse last night, began with weaning his sedation slowly, just before I arrived. She also made sure he was shaved and washed up extra-special for his big day.

As I enter Edward's room, Esme and Carlisle are there. Esme is speaking softly to her son while wiping his brow with a damp washcloth. He is moving his hands a bit and Esme couldn't be more thrilled.

Carlisle is off to the side speaking to the Intensivist.

After morning rounds are completed, the fun will begin.

By eight a.m. Edward's bed is raised into a more upright position. His head moves causing his to brow crease in discomfort, and briefly those brilliant green eyes that I've ached to see are opened from his lengthy ordeal.

A while later, Edward's eyes stay open longer. It seems as if he is able to focus for short periods of time. He seems thoroughly confused as he looks around the room where everyone has gathered.

The ventilator is frequently alarming as Edward coughs and bucks with a couple of breaths here and there.

I speak to him to ascertain just how far along we are in the process.

"Edward, my name is Bella and I'm your nurse."

His eyes focus on mine after my statement, and I am blown away by the intensity of his stare. It is a brief glance for all intents and purposes, but in that moment I can see clearly that Edward is a fighter and he will pull through this in record time.

"Edward, can you understand me?" He looks in my direction again and nods slightly. "Good. Just try to stay calm and focus on what we are saying. You're doing fine."

Tears are noticeable in Esme's eyes and Alice squeaks in excitement and hugs Jasper tightly. His entire family is hanging on every little movement he makes. I have to admit, although I am trying to hide it, I am more than thrilled as well.

Edward's family is now a bit farther away from him, as the all the staff needed to get the show on the road converges in Edward's room.

Dr. Caius takes over after introducing himself to Edward.

"Edward, we are trying to get you off your ventilator, so you can breathe on your own. You're becoming more awake because of we're reducing the amount of medicine that has previously kept you relaxed," Dr. Caius stated.

Edward comprehends what Dr. Caius just said and moves his left hand up to his throat, touching the tubing connecting his body to the machine.

"You have a tracheostomy that was needed to help you breathe. Do you understand?" Dr. Caius asks.

He grimaces for a second, pinching his eyes shut, but again, Edward looks back at Dr. Caius and slowly nods in understanding.

He moves his hand from his throat and proceeds to look down onto his lap. He wiggles his feet and then—well, in a million years, I never would have guessed what was going to happen next—but moments later he whips off the sheet and light blanket covering him.

The hospital Johnnie is then unceremoniously pushed aside as he completely exposes himself in front of everyone, examining the Foley in his penis.

This is not good. At all.

Emmett begins laughing, Alice and Rosalie object with groans while looking away quickly, and Esme lightly scolds her son by saying his name aloud in a stunned tone of voice.

Emmett's laughter is rapidly progressing into full blown hysteria as Edward's worried eyes look around the room and back down to his hand holding his penis. Carlisle is quietly smirking with a giggle-snort thrown in here and there.

Dr. Caius, who seems a little out of his element in this moment, backs away.

I step in to defuse the situation. "Now Edward, we can't have you showin' off the goods in mixed company, can we? That is just not socially acceptable. Okay?" I speak casually as I gently move his hand away and cover him back up.

Putting this mildly, Edward is blessed, even when flaccid—which admittedly is the only state I have ever seen him in—but anyway, he put on quite a show.

It is not very professional for nurses to note these things, but in reality it happens all the time.

Every nurse in the unit that has helped in their care is aware that Room 4 is hung like a rhino, and Room 6 is all potatoes and no meat.

Even if a male patient is average, he should hope that the generalized swelling that most patients endure during their ICU admission doesn't take up primary residence in his scrotum and completely obscure his penis altogether…which is another common occurrence.

Nope, medicine is NOT a pretty business.

I continue to try to relax the room and calm Edward down a bit—he seems rather restless. "We will be shutting the machine off soon, okay, Edward? You want that Foley out, right?" He nods his head almost frantically.

If he does well, we could switch the Foley soon to what is called a Texas catheter, which is more like a condom attached to a tube that collects urine in a bag. It is less invasive so there is less chance for infection. It's also less distressing to the patient and more comfortable.

He looks around the room again unfocused, confused, and anxious. His gaze stops at the monitor. It almost seems as if he is trying to make sense of the clinical information on display. It is probably indecipherable for him at this point in his cognizant but still drug-addled state.

I help with his interpretation of the numbers by stating that his heart rate, blood pressure and oxygen saturation are all within normal limits right now and he is doing well. Now Emmett is nearly howling with laughter, and it seems it's all Rose can do not to strangle him during his hysteria.

"Oh, damn!" Emmett gasps between bouts of amusement, as he starts to explain the reason for his outburst. "The first thing he is concerned about is the tube in his throat, and then he checks on Edward Junior, then his vital signs. Don't you see? It's just slightly different from the priorities he and I learned in paramedic school. To Edward, the mnemonic has changed. Instead of ABC—which stands for Airway Breathing and Circulation–it's A 'P' C. Airway, Penis and Circulation! Don't worry everyone! Edward is gonna be just fine!"

I start laughing at Emmett's silly analysis along with everyone else in the room, even Rose, but that still doesn't stop her from smacking Emmett in the back of the head again. I laugh a little louder and can't help but wonder how many times a week she has to do that. Maybe there's a reset button back there or something. If nothing else, Emmet helps to lighten the mood of these otherwise serious circumstances.

Dr. Caius is not immune to the humorous situation and leaves the room momentarily while chuckling to answer a page. I take this opportunity to ask Edward if he recognizes any of his visitors. He looks at me in confusion and then proceeds to look past me to his family. It seems as if he did not notice all the people in his room before now.

He gives an amazing, full out, ten thousand megawatt smile when he sees his mom. Esme steps up to her son quickly. Her previous laughter morphing into sobs because, as she hugs her son, for the first time in a long time—he is able to hug her back.

The mood in the room drastically shifts, and the laughter is suddenly replaced with sobs as the ordeal they all have endured comes rushing back.

Carlisle joins them, his cheeks wet with tears from the memories.

Esme looks up at Alice, who attempts to walk. But Jasper has to catch her as her knees buckle after a couple steps. Alice is nearly inconsolable as she makes her way over to Edward with Jasper's help.

Rosalie is crying into Emmett's chest and even that big lug is overcome with emotion. I don't stand a chance and I try to step away before anyone notices me losing it right there along with everyone else. Emmett grabs me by the shoulder and he and Rose hug me, thanking me for helping their Edward.

My tears now fall unrestrained as well.

Edward

Damn! I can't seem to think straight. I feel...fuzzy. Every part of my body burns in pain and the noises around me are confusing. There is a pressure in my chest, as if I don't need to exert the energy to breathe, like it's being done for me. That's good because I have never felt this tired. Tired, so, so tired…

It's bright and people are around me. I hear them but I can't seem to concentrate on anything except this overwhelming exhaustion.

I just need some sleep. I wish someone would turn out the lights.

As soon as I awaken again from a hazy state of sub-consciousness, I'm hit with tremendous pain just about everywhere. I have the feeling that I am being inflated like a balloon, and each time it happens my chest aches under the pressure.

I can barely move. My limbs feel as if the gravity holding me down has somehow been increased. I feel so weak against the weight of my own body.

What is going on?

My heart is racing, pummeling the inside of my chest relentlessly. I feel the need to take deeper breaths but my chest and breathing feels oddly constricted. I am on the verge of panicking. I try to focus but nothing is making sense.

I feel like I inhaled razor blades. My throat hurts like hell; this strange silent coughing I can't control is making it worse.

I have to calm down. I have to calm down, but fuck! I don't understand what is happening to me.

I hope I'm in the hospital because I'm fucking hurt here. Shit, someone has to help me. I have to calm down.

A pretty lady with green scrubs is talking to me now.

Okay, at least I know I'm in a hospital…I think. How the fuck did I get here?

What the fuck is she saying? Damn, I'm getting pissed. Nothing is making sense.

I feel like my mind is processing everything from under murky, polluted water.

Listen, lady, this sucks. I fucking need some pain killers. Knock me the fuck out, please. Just do something.

She just asked if I can understand her. Well, think I can.

Yes, I can understand you. Maybe.

I have to stay calm. Stay calm and concentrate. I have to focus because I can tell that some serious shit went down if I feel this bad and can't remember anything.

Okay, okay. I can do this.

Some tool is introducing himself to me now.

Doesn't he know his fucking babbling is hard to comprehend?

Bring back the pretty lady. I am not gonna remember your name dude, so save it. I need some help here. I feel awful…please.

Jesus Christ! This is hell. I can't figure what the fuck is going on, and every inch of me is in pain. Am I dying? Fuck! I don't want to die!

Wait, what? Something about a ventilator and medication. Dude, speak slower and I need that medication now. Hurry! Wait, he said less medication. Oh, fuck. This sucks!

A tracheostomy was needed to help me breathe? WHAT. THE. FUCK!

I reach up to grab my throat and sure enough, the douchebag isn't lying.

Holy shit! There is a fucking hole in my fucking throat!

FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. Does my mom know? She's gonna worry.

Shit! I hope Kate doesn't know; she shouldn't see me like this.

Oh fuck…Wait. A. Minute.

What else is fucked up on me?

I can feel my legs and wiggle my feet, thank God. My arm is in a cast.

Okay…that's okay.

But wait…oh, fuck. Someone messed with my junk. Ahh! I have a catheter!

AGAIN. WHAT. THE. ACTUAL FUCK?

Douchebag backs up; he is probably the one touching my junk in the first place. Now I am pissed.

Uh-oh. Pretty lady is moving my hand away and covering me back up!

Fuck! I forgot she was here and now she saw my junk and it was catheterized. Great! Just great. Not the best first impression, Edward, you shithead.

She asks if I want this fucking tube out of my dick.

Is she serious? Show me one guy who would say "No, please keep it in. I kinda like it." Pretty lady is being ridiculous.

This is slowly starting to make sense here. I'm in a hospital, and apparently I'm pretty fucked up if I'm trached. But I can't be that bad because I'm awake.

Shit, I wish pretty lady would call someone to get this shit out of my dick. Now.

I look around the room and I notice a monitor on the wall. Hey, that must be me.

That shit looks familiar, but fuck, I got a tube in my dick and a hole in my throat. How am I supposed to concentrate here?

Pretty lady tells me I am doing fine and I hear this laughing but it isn't coming from pretty lady or douchebag.

Oh, good, douchebag is leaving. Maybe he is going to get someone to take this tube out of my dick.

Damn, I'm in a bad mood here.

It sounds like Emmett laughing. I'm in no mood right now to deal with his shenanigans.

Pretty lady asks me if I recognize my visitors.

My visitors?

She steps aside and I see my mom. Oh, no! Mom is gonna worry about me.

Mom, I'm okay! Look, see? I'm smiling even though they have a tube in my…well, you don't need to know that.

Lady, please tell my mom I'm okay. I'm in a really shitty mood right now but I'm fine.

Mom hugs me tightly and I hug her back with what little strength I seem to have in my good arm. And she is crying.

Damn, it is all I can do just to move. Fuck, what happened to me?

I don't want to make Mom cry. Oh no, Mom, please don't cry about this. I'm okay. I feel like crap but I'm okay.

HEY! Dad is here, too. What am I thinking; of course he is. He's my dad and he works here.

My mind doesn't seem to want to work properly for some reason.

He is hugging me even tighter than Mom. What is going on? Dad doesn't cry, so why is he crying? Alice is now hugging me, too. Shit and she is crying also.

Jasper. Dude, help these three out. I'm okay. Tell them to stop crying.

Why are they crying so much? What the fuck happened?

Where is Kate? Where is my daughter? WHERE IS KATE?

Panic is overwhelming me and I try to speak and nothing is coming out. Fuck this ventilator.

Get this fucking thing off me! I need to know if Kate is okay!

WHERE IS MY DAUGHTER, GOD DAMNIT!

The pretty lady stops me from pulling the vent tubing. I signal to her I need to write because I can't talk.

She has a small white board and a marker, and she hands it to me. I snatch it away and chaotically move my hand to write one word. I need answers right fucking now.

"KATE?"

Mom clears her throat and tells me Kate is in school and she will be here to visit a little later.

Relief washes over me. Thank God! Okay.

I can deal with whatever I need to as long as my girl is okay.

Mom tells me that she wanted to be here yesterday and wished she could share a piece of her birthday cake with me.

Her birthday was yesterday? Why the fuck didn't anyone wake me up? Was I asleep for the whole day?

For Christ's sake, I missed my daughter's birthday! I don't remember anything. This shit isn't making sense. How could I have missed her birthday?

How long was I asleep?

I got a cast on my writing arm? How did I not notice that before? Oh, wait. Yeah. I remember, I did. What happened to me? Why am I here? Why can't I think straight?

I ask those same questions on the board.

They seem to be discussing something with their backs turned from me, but I can't understand what they are saying. They are not involving me in this conversation, and I don't like it. I am getting anxious. Something is very wrong and I need answers now.

Fuck, someone help me here. Tell me what the fuck is going on. Please!

Jasper is wagging his head "no." can hear Emmett arguing with him.

My fear is growing more uncontrollable by the moment.

My mother is trying to tell me that everything is going to be okay, but it seems like she is lying. I use my whiteboard to plead with my family for some answers.

Jasper walks up to me and assures me that the only thing I need to worry about right now is getting better. He tells me that it would be best if I rested today and that tomorrow I will get all the answers I need.

I'm exhausted. So, so tired but I can feel the surge of adrenaline causing my blood to pound through my head with each rapid beat of my heart. A sick feeling settles in the pit of my stomach, and it feels like my toes are hanging over the ledge of a skyscraper. I know something big happened. I just can't get my mind to work properly so I can't figure out what the fuck is going on.

I am torn between closing my eyes and wanting to scream.

I'm so confused, and I feel like I've been hit by a truck. I just want this to make sense. Unfortunately, that doesn't seem like that will happen for me today.

There will be no screaming, nor any sleeping for me right now because douchebag is back and he's siding with Jasper. He just wants me to focus on my breathing today, and tomorrow, when I am stronger, things will be clearer and easier to understand. I hope he is right.

He has a job for me today and says it won't be easy. He wants me to show him that I can breathe without this God damn machine.

Fuck, no problem, dude. Maybe then you will take that fucking Foley out, you fucking pervert.

My confusion is pushed aside. I'm pissed again. My bad mood resumes.

The machine is turned off and I notice how heavy my chest is. I focus on my family; they seem to be watching every move I make. This seems to make them happy and they are encouraging my progress.

Shit. My chest feels so tired.

It reminds me of when I was a kid in the summer time when I never left our pool, after I went inside for dinner following an entire day of swimming. My chest would ache with each breath. It feels like that, only twenty times worse.

Each breath is hard work. I don't want to disappoint my family, but it won't take long before I succumb to the exhaustion I have been fighting. Their fuzzy silhouettes are all I see between each blink. It is getting harder and harder to re-open my eyes.

As my mind wants to protest shutting down right now, something drains my will, and I find myself fading off.

This is tiring, but everyone is making a fuss about how good I am doing. I just want to sleep some more. I'm wiped out. Everyone is fussing and touching me, telling me how much they love me. I love them, too, but really, I need a nap here.

Finally I write on the white board that I want a nap. Pretty lady thinks that is a good idea and they all hug me one last time before letting me get some peace.

Pervert doesn't hug me. Good thing or I'll kick his ass—I may be tired, but he pisses me off.

Pretty lady tucks me in and shows me the call bell. I kind of wish she would hug me but she doesn't.

My body feels so heavy, like I am sinking into the mattress below me. I succumb to the peace. Painlessly, my body now relaxes into a state of complete solace.

Next thing I know, I am awake again and it hurts. I realize that this is reality and not a bad dream after all. Damn.

I feel a little better but I want my mom; I want her here to make everything go away.

I'm not on that ventilator any longer, but I am questioning their judgment on this. It seems that breathing is really a rather difficult task for me lately.

I look around and Alice is reading on her kindle. She sees me move and drops the device to the floor, launching herself at me.

"Edward! God I love you, you big jerk! How are you feeling?" She squeaks at me as she is hugging me for all her five feet one inch frame is worth.

She hands me the whiteboard, and I tell her I am doing fine. I ask her about Jasper and Jane. She says that they should be back here soon.

I remember that damn Foley; I reach down and grab my junk and realize it is still there. I wish pretty lady would call the pervert back to get this shit out of me.

Alice bristles and yells at me to keep my covers on.

What the hell! Has everyone gone mad?

Does she think I am gonna show her what lies beneath? It's got a tube in it. Even if it didn't there is no way I would be flashing my own sister.

Pretty lady walks in and smiles. Damn, she is so pretty.

Oh, I just remembered she was the one who saw me naked with a tube all up in my junk earlier today.

Oh no! I hope my sister wasn't in the room, too. Oh man, I wish that had never happened. What was I thinking?

I don't have any idea what came over me.

She asks if I would like the Foley out now, and I smile and shake my head like a moron. YES, PLEASE!

Alice leaves and pretty lady draws the curtain and comes up to me with gloves on.

Whoa…Hold on a sec.

She tries to move my blanket and sheet away.

Wait, wait, wait. OH HELL NO! I hold them in place with my good arm.

She saw me once; that was bad enough.

She was supposed to call pervert back to get it out, wasn't she? At this point, I don't mind him looking at my junk, just as long as pretty lady is not around.

She assures me everything is going to be okay.

Well, hell. I could have told her that. I just don't want her seeing me naked again.

She reaches for the covers again, and again I have to stop her.

I take the whiteboard and write down what should be obvious to her—but just in case—I need to make her aware that I am NAKED under my hospital gown.

She starts giggling at me.

Giggling!

"Of course you're naked, Edward. You're in the hospital and I'm your nurse. Don't you remember when I introduced myself to you earlier today? My name is Bella and I have been taking care of you for just about a month now."

You could have knocked me over with a feather—naked, month, nurse, Bella. Great. Perfect. Just my luck to have a beautiful woman as a nurse for the past month and I could not even appreciate it.

I realize the things she must have had to do for me and I shiver.

Oh dear God. Kill me now. No, this can't be happening.

I write on the board to tell her it's okay and I will take out the Foley myself if she just leaves me that 10cc syringe.

She is now laughing at me.

Laughing!

She thinks I'm being funny. And for the life of me, I cannot find the comedic value in this situation.

She moves my hands away from the covers and gown and there I am, hanging out all over the place.

Jesus H. Christ! Good arm or bad, I am using both to try and cover up what God gave me, and she is just having none of that as she swats my hands back away.

What is wrong with you, woman?! I try to yell at her but nothing comes out.

Before you know it, she deflates the distal end of the catheter that is in my bladder with the syringe and yanks the tube out of me like she is trying to start a God damn chain saw.

I ask again…What the hell is wrong with you, woman?!

She turns around and smiles after discarding everything in the giant red-bag trash. After taking off her gloves, she washes her hands. "See, that wasn't so bad, now was it?"

She is patronizing me.

Do you think I am three years old, lady? I am a grown man, or PERHAPS you didn't notice while you were down there.

I just woke up in a pretty good mood, now, I'm pissed again.

She must sense my anger. She sits in the chair next to my bed and holds the hand on my good side. "Edward, I know you are starting to feel better now, but I want you to know, you are still in the ICU.

"You were in pretty rough shape for a while there and you still have a way to go to finish healing.

"You are still going to be dependent upon me as well as the other nurses for a lot of your care. But don't worry—what goes on in Room 4 stays in Room 4."

I know that's a crock. She thinks she is being funny again. Maybe she still thinks I'm still out of it, but I can think much more clearly now.

She doesn't know it, but I'm in the medical field too.

Letting off steam with a little dark humor every once in a while at the expense of the poor schmuck you have to take care of is just about universal.

The only place it might happen more than in the ICUs or the ERs is in the pre-hospital setting, which is my domain.

It's nothing personal. I know if it didn't happen, health care providers would probably all go loopy within the first few years of their careers from the stress of the job.

There is always underlying empathy and concern for your patients. But if you start to care too much and can't distance yourself from their situations through humor that many people who aren't in the medical field wouldn't understand, before long, your own sanity would be lost.

Oh great, now she's coming at me with new gloves and what looks like another kind of Foley.

She explains herself, "Edward, this is a Texas catheter. We still need to use this because you are still pretty out of it at times. We still have to keep track of your urine output. It goes over your penis like a condom and the tube attaches to this bag that will strap onto your leg."

Oh NO!

Nope. Not happening.

She is NOT putting a condom on me.

One-foot-in-the-grave-and-the-other-on-a-banana-pe el, or not, my body will betray me if she does this.

Please, God no, this will give me a hard-on. I know it. Where the hell is that coma inducing medication when I need it?

Wide eyed, I shake my head "no" furiously, but she is not deterred.

Oh God, this can't be happening!

I pick up the whiteboard and ask if I could just have one of those urinal bottles instead, but she tells me no. She is a stubborn one.

She assures me there is nothing to be embarrassed about. Well, no, not for you. But there damn well will be something to be embarrassed about for me in a minute.

In fact, I can tell the fucking traitor between my legs is almost half-mast already.

It's a horrifying thought, having this woman witness me getting hard while she is just trying to do her job, but somehow, it seems Junior has a mind of his own and is up for a challenge.

She moves my hands and they ball up into fists as I squeeze my eyes shut as tight as I can.

If I even so much as sneak a peek, it will surely happen. It won't matter—latex free, blue colored glove wearing petite hands or not, if I watch, I will have an instant, full blown boner for sure.

I feel everything as she holds me and slowly rolls the condom part down. Oh, God forgive me, but that feels too familiar.

It's happening…

Didn't I just wake up from a coma? FUCK! Where the hell is that pervert guy when I need him? I'd never get a hard-on if he were putting this thing on.

Oh damn! It's fucking tight.

Okay! That's it! That's enough humiliation for one day.

This thing is obviously not going to work, and despite her grip on me, which is all business and determined not to fail—I grab the God forsaken device, and pluck it off the top of my now fully erect penis.

Freaking traitor. I'm sure I can't even stand beneath my own God damned weight because I am too weak, but apparently that does not deter other parts of my body from working like a champ.

Funny, she doesn't seem to object to me halting her progress now.

She meekly begins to explain that what just happened is a normal human function and I did nothing wrong.

Kill. Me. Now. Please!

She leaves, apparently disgusted with my behavior. I don't blame her. I am beyond mortified as well.

That was, without a doubt, the most embarrassing moment of my entire existence.

I realize that she is probably whooping it up in the break room about this with the other nurses at this point. Oh God, will there be no end to this humiliation?

A few minutes later the shame, nausea, and coiling of my intestines are in full swing. As I replay the events in my mind over and over, I hear the words "Knock, knock." After a couple seconds, she tells me she is coming in and slowly opens the curtain.

It occurs to me instantly that she thinks I could have been rubbing one out with my good arm, so she gave me a courtesy knock-knock warning before barging in.

Oh. My. God. This just keeps getting better!

I can't look her in the eyes. She clears her throat and begins, "Edward, it's okay—please don't be embarrassed. I'm leaving another Texas catheter here. If you could just please do me a favor and put it on yourself. I will come in a little later to strap the collection bag to your leg so it doesn't get pulled off. Okay?"

She tries to look in my eyes when she asks if that will be okay but, I can't do it. I look away, feeling like I could vomit.

Damn stubborn woman won't let me look away. She uses her hand lightly on my cheek to direct my face to hers asking again if it is okay. I reluctantly look her in the eyes and shake my head yes. I notice then that I could get lost in her eyes. They are so beautiful.

She then tells me that I have visitors and lets me know that she will give me a few minutes before she lets them come in. She will check on me first before letting them through.

I shake my head and mouth the words "thank you" and she leaves, closing the curtain securely behind her.

Five minutes later I am good to go, I managed okay with just one good arm. She comes in to check on me, and secure the leg strap of the catheter before she leaves me to my visitors.

I see my daughter Kate first. She runs up to me, abruptly stopping short before she gets too close. I was expecting a hug but she seems afraid to touch me. I'm sure she's a little frightened by all this. Hell, so am I.

Grandma tells her that it is all right and that she can gently hug me. Her face lights up and I'll bet her expression must be matching mine as she wraps her arms around me. She tells me while she is hugging me how much she misses me and all about her ninth birthday party the day before yesterday. She said that when she blew out the candles on her cake that her wish came true because she wished for me to wake up and I did.

I am hanging on her every word, and with all the energy I can muster, I scoot over a bit in my bed so she can sit down beside me. It hurt like hell, but it was worth it.

The conversation is completely one sided which isn't too far off from any other conversation with Kate. She takes after her Aunt Alice in so many ways. Being talkative is only one.

She goes on and on about school and mentions a boy named Noah—which I will have to investigate further as soon as I can remain upright without falling flat on my face.

Mom, Dad, and Kate's mom, Tanya, are in my room watching Kate interact with me. I notice Bella walk past and stop with a smile on her face when she sees Kate kissing my forehead once for every day that I was in the hospital because she could not give me a kiss then. She said she wanted to come see me but she was too afraid.

Everyone joins in the conversation. I use my whiteboard to interact when Kate isn't doodling on it. They stay for a while but I can feel myself getting tired again.

Exhaustion seems to be hitting me like a ton of bricks lately. I feel my eyes roll back in my head a couple times, and the last thing I remember is hearing Dad say that it was time for me to take a nap.

**FL&SC**

I awaken again, unsure of what time it is, or even if it is day or night.

The lights in the unit are on but the overhead in my room is off. There's no window and it is quite disorienting. I look around for a clock which indicates it's a little after four. I wish I knew if that was a.m. or p.m.

I think back to the last time I was awake and remember that my daughter was here. I want to see her again, but I realize it must be early morning. I've been asleep for almost twelve hours.

Somehow, it doesn't seem like enough. I still feel tired.

Aside from various distant beeping noises and a constant buzz of activity at the nurse's desk, which I can see part of from my bed, it's peaceful. No one is asking anything of me right now, so I can take inventory of what happened that landed me in this shape.

Did I get into an accident?

I am pretty banged up, but I don't remember anything that could give me any answers.

Then it all comes flooding back.

Three story brick frame, shitty, dilapidated crack house or something, smoke and fire visible on the first floor. I was with Harry. There was report that a woman lived on the second floor with a little boy. Yes, the boy. I remember the boy.

I was at work. FUCK! HARRY! HOW IS HARRY?

I'm frantic; I need to get out of here. Panic re-emerges. I remember finding the boy. He was hiding and scared, but otherwise okay.

The floor was weak when we entered his room, so I wanted to go out the window. This house was in such a state of disrepair, it probably wouldn't have held up much longer even without the stress of having fire and water weaken it. I looked out a window to a narrow alleyway full of garbage. Getting out that way would have taken a lot longer. No one was working that side of the building yet.

I didn't want to go back out the way we came because I didn't think the structure was going to hold much longer, but Harry did. I didn't stress to him that the floor felt too soft to go back. I gave in without much of an argument against my gut instinct because I just wanted to get the fuck out ASAP; it was getting hairy in there. The house was a death trap on a good day and should have been condemned long ago.

I thought Harry surely knew better than I did. I trusted him with this. He has ten more years on the department than me and he's a smart guy.

Why didn't I tell him no? I was a fucking coward, that's why; I just wanted to get out of there as quickly as I could.

NO! NO! NO! NO! I have to get out of this hospital and find out what happened!

My mind is spinning. I have to take off these fucking wires.

I know better than to just yank out my IV, especially because it is a central line just under my collar bone and not a routine IV in my arm or hand, but I work on clamping it off as best as my mind can remember how.

I try to get my legs to move over to the side of the bed as I sit up. It takes tremendous effort. I realize there's no way I can get out of here under my own power, but God damn it! I need someone to answer my questions. I need my white board but I can't reach far enough to the table where it is lying. Maybe if I just stretch out a little farther.

I don't get very far before someone is raising their voice and trying to halt my progress.

It's a different nurse. Apparently pretty lady isn't working now; she probably only works in the daytime. This nurse is pretty also, but pretty lady has these deep brown eyes and is drop dead gorgeous.

The nurse tries to hold my hands back. I try to tell her I just have to get my white board so I can ask questions. I need to find out what happened to my friend Harry, only I can't make any sound.

I'm trying to get her attention to look at me as I mouth the words to her but she doesn't seem interested in what I'm struggling to say. She is yelling, and before I know it there are other nurses in the room that are having more success prohibiting me from moving. None of them seem interested in my silent words either.

Damn.

What the hell was I just thinking? I can't leave. I don't even think I can stand up. Even if I could, how would I get home? Take the bus? Car-jack someone? God, what kind of drugs are they giving me in here?

Okay, I get it. I'm staying, but I need to find out what happened to Harry. Please, can someone help me?

I see another green scrub clad person drawing up some medication from a vial as others try to work on the IV that will soon be running again. It's being corrected by the troop of medical personnel now in my room, trying to undo all the work I did to make my ill-planned escape.

If they would just slow down for a minute, they would see I'm not leaving anymore, I just need to communicate with them. I just need to find answers, damn it! What happened to Harry and the boy?

I try to tell them I need my white board so I can talk to them, but I'm not successful in my attempt to get their attention. They still think I'm causing trouble.

My dad comes rushing in trying to calm me.

Is he working tonight?

I'm confused because he is usually in a suit and tie when he is working. It is highly unusual that my father is in T-shirt, jeans and sneakers. He has his hands on my shoulders, pushing me down into the bed.

I just want to sit up so everyone can see I'm trying to talk to them. Why are they so rough? I just want to talk. Please. Why won't anyone listen? I try to fight against the hands holding me down but it feels as if I have so little power against them.

Dad, have you been here all the while?

No one is noticing that I just want to talk. Please, Dad, make them stop so I can just get some information.

Where is Mom? Is she okay?

Those are the only questions I get answered as I see her crying in my doorway when I manage to sit up one last time during my struggle.

I don't want her to cry. I wish these people would stop upsetting her like this and just give me a second to explain. I fight to push everyone off me harder.

Fuck! Everyone stop! You're upsetting my mother!

Why is Dad letting this happen? Mom, please don't cry.

I see a syringe in my periphery and I look over to watch as some medication is administered to me. Instinctively I know it is a sedative.

But I just need answers. Please, someone help me.

No, don't! Please, just help me! I need to see Harry!

Moments later I lose all my determination to resist. Moments after that I lose the ability to keep my eyes open.

Against my will, I have no choice but to succumb to the artificial nothingness of the drug.

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who is reading my story and to anyone who takes a couple moments to review.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N Thanks for your reviews. They make me very happy. Sorry if I missed thanking you personally. Hell, it's even possible I thanked you twice for the same review. I'm a newb, please forgive me.**

**Thank you to all those who have helped me with this story including, EdwardCullen'sLove, DanceWithMeTonight for her banner.**

**Last but not least to my incredible betas LoveofEscapism and especially kitchmill who held my hand through everything and continues to do so.**

**To kitch, I dedicate a few words from Steven King: To write is human. To edit, divine.**

Chapter 5

Bella

As predicted, Edward is making progress in leaps and bounds. He is getting stronger by the day and is finally out of the proverbial woods.

Edward doesn't need his white board to communicate any longer, which is a big step unto itself. Even though he is longer connected to the ventilator, he still has the tracheostomy. Most of the time, the tracheostomy insert is not completely removed and closed off until admission to rehab. However, Edward wanted it out sooner. Now with a finger over the hole, if you listen closely, you can hear him speak; he has no choice but to be content with that for now.

While his body is healing quicker than anyone had hoped, emotionally, he is clearly struggling.

Many times I have noticed him lost in his own mind, staring at the ceiling with tears in his eyes on the verge of spilling over. He would quickly brush them away, once he noticed me. However, to this day, there is a sadness left behind that is not as easy to conceal.

A while ago—in fact it was the day after he was weaned off the vent—he had a significant episode in the early morning hours, before I got in. He woke up and tried to take all the equipment off, seemingly wanting to leave. Angela was his nurse and said he was panic stricken. He resisted everyone that was trying to help him. Even his parents weren't able to calm him down. They had to sedate him. He says he doesn't remember much about the incident, only that he wanted to talk to Harry.

Later that day, while I was on duty, he found out that he would never have that chance to talk to Harry. Emmett explained to him everything that occurred on the night he wound up here. That was when he first found out that Harry Clearwater and the boy they were trying to rescue had both succumbed to their injuries.

The information didn't sit well with Edward. I watched helplessly as he then proceeded to fall apart emotionally. Unfortunately, there is no medication that can ease the pain of losing a friend and co-worker.

Now, he just looks empty and resigned to his fate, whatever he thinks that may be.

Other firemen would visit, but their presence only seemed to make Edward depressed instead of happy. In turn, they tended to walk around on eggshells with Edward, unsure of what to say.

He talks to Emmett on occasion, and that is when he seems to unload a lot. Sometimes it's all too much for Edward and he gets very angry. I'm sure it's at the circumstances and not at Emmett, but the aftermath exhausts him emotionally and physically.

Nevertheless, I'm glad that he is opening up to someone. It's a step in the right direction.

He usually sleeps after these emotional meetings, but when he awakens he's distant and not very engaged with anything around him for a while, unless it's his daughter. She's the only one that seems to snap him out of it.

When I try to prompt him to talk about what's on his mind, most of the time he blows me off, always telling me "it's nothing." I know that's a crock of shit, but I hope that eventually, he will be able to open up to me.

My persistence pays off one day after noticing him alone, with a thousand mile stare, wiping away an errant tear.

After some coaxing, he finally tells me what's on his mind.

We sit together that afternoon and talk. Although he almost never looks me in the eye anymore, he gives me the abridged version of what has been tormenting him. Forcing air out of his tracheostomy, he is able to be understood, but his speech is affected. He is able to speak, but only in short sentences before taking in another breath. His voice is just a little bit louder than a whisper.

"Harry was a good man. He and I worked together a lot…he taught me so much. I know his wife…and I met his kids. He loved his family so much. As firefighter brothers…we are supposed…to make sure at…the end of our shift…each other makes it home. I failed him. I can't believe he's gone.

"Harry and the boy…shouldn't have died. I wish I could go back…and relive that night. They would be alive."

I feel uneasy that he said "they would be alive" and not, "we all would be alive", but I don't comment, I only listen. I desperately want to question some of his insights. I don't push him though, fearing he will retreat if he has to argue his point.

I wish he would explain further, but a few tears well up again and he shuts down. I try to think of a way to keep the conversation going without making him feel worse, but I'm at a loss.

He asks if he could have some time to rest a bit, noting that is his polite way of kicking me out. I thank him for sharing this with me and leave, letting him know that he can talk to me at any time.

I'll always be there for him. I even left him my cell number so he could call me if I wasn't working. I know he would never call, nevertheless, I feel proud that he feels that he can trust me with even this small amount of information. He seemed genuinely surprised at my gesture and I think it helped restore some of our working relationship.

Once in a while, with a little attention, some bad jokes, or a few minutes of a shoulder rub, I can even get him to smile and shorten the duration of his despondency. But it doesn't last long. The next time I enter his room, it's like we automatically start back at square one, where he is either too shy to look at me, or too depressed to notice much of anything around him. I just have to be happy with the baby steps we have taken to get to this point.

Edward is having a hard time accepting all he has lost. Grief, combined with survivor's guilt, on top of a significant injury that weakened him and has permanently scarred his body, is a lot for one man to deal with all at once.

Recently, he is refusing any kind of painkiller except over the counter medication. He is bearing weight and trying to take a few steps with a walker. I attribute a lot of his abilities at this point to his sheer will to get better. But on the other hand, having his father oversee his care, and pay out of his own pocket for a separate physical therapist to come in multiple times a day while he was in a coma to make sure he received passive range of motion exercises, is also very helpful.

Edward is still very weak, but considering the average patient loses somewhere in the area of one percent lean muscle mass per day while being in a coma like Edward was, I think he is a veritable superman for what he is able to do at this point.

The determination I see in his eyes is humbling. Sometimes, however, he pushes himself a bit too hard and I have to be the bad guy by calling off any more attempts at activity for the rest of the day. He will never admit it, but I know just standing under his own power is exhausting for him.

Since Edward is somewhat mobile again, it means he is able to shower, albeit with assistance. He has to be very carefully as not to get any water near his throat. But nevertheless he is thrilled.

The only problem is that he will not allow any females to assist him.

There is only one male nursing assistant on the unit and he works on a part-time basis, two shifts a week. Therefore, Edward has to hit up his family for help.

Twice Carlisle helped him wash-up and another time it was Emmett.

After Emmett's assistance, he was sure to remind Edward that he was now indebted to him for the rest of his life all because he had to see Edward naked again.

I am still assigned as Edward's one-to-one nurse, but Edward's condition is steadily improving, and the amount of time I am racing around tending to him has drastically decreased. It's a welcomed relief that he is no longer so fragile, but it makes for a long day when your only patient seems to withdraw from your presence. Provided no one else on the unit needs any help, I find myself with a lot of free time on my hands lately.

I have come to find out that Edward is really rather modest, and I am sure the incident with me applying the Texas catheter is still bothering him. He still avoids looking me in the eye. I decide I will have to sit down and have a talk with him when he wakes up from his most recent impromptu nap.

Soon, he will be discharged to a step-down unit, so I decide our talk will have to take place today.

I walk past Edward's room from the nurses' lounge and notice he is awake. I stop in and ask if I can get him anything. When he says he is fine, I sit down next to his bed and ask him how he thinks his recovery is going. It is not something I get a chance to do often with most of my patients, and it will open the door for our other conversation.

Edward's answers are terse and he looks anywhere but at me when I am in his room. He does not seem to have these same eye contact issues with anyone else he interacts with, so I know this should be addressed now.

I decide I am going to try for the friendly-yet-professional-approach. "Edward, I was wondering if you wouldn't mind if I sat and bent your ear about some other stuff for a while?"

He gives me a brief thumbs up while picking at some imaginary lint on his sleep pants, so I settle in my seat and proceed. "Edward, I just wanted to thank you for trusting me the other day when we talked about what I know has weighed heavy on your mind recently. It means a lot to me that you have enough faith in me to open up.

"But still, I've noticed that you seem to feel rather uncomfortable with me and I want to assure you, it's completely unnecessary. While we did have an awkward moment a while ago with the Texas catheter, I want you to know that you have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. In fact, you should be proud."

I immediately notice that Edward's eyes, which are diverted off to the side, widen considerably. For a moment, he looks like a cartoon character whose eyes leave their head after some kind of surprise. Due to his reaction, I replay my words in my mind and realize how disastrous that sounded.

GAAAAH!

I feel my face flush with heat. I try to do some damage control. "What I mean to say is that you don't have to be embarrassed by what is a normal human male's response to that type of external stimuli. It's just amazing that it could happen so soon after regaining consciousness."

OH GOD! Now I sound like a freaking textbook! I should have thought this through a little more.

I try one more time. "Oh hell, I'm making a mess out of this here. I just want the rest of your stay in the ICU as easy going as possible, so we are just going to have to put this behind us and move on.

"Yes, Edward, I know you hate it but I have seen you naked and I even wiped your ass more times than I care to remember. You were just too sick to have any say in it. It is a part of my job to care for people when they cannot do so for themselves.

"You are a strong man, and I have come to know you are the type of person that has a hard time tolerating vulnerability or to be put into a position that you cannot control. But please know that I want us to get past this.

"It is not the first time this kind of thing has happened in the history of nursing, nor will it be the last. It may not make you feel that much better, but if I had the choice of helping you with a Texas catheter or wiping your ass again, I would choose the former. No contest."

His eyes shoot up to mine, they crinkle in the corners and he starts laughing. All I can really hear is some air movement through his trach opening, but the look on his face tells me all I need to know. I can't help the smile that spreads across my face at his reaction. It's the most alive I have ever seen him. It spreads a joy within me, and I'm at a loss to remember the last time I felt this elated. He laughs so hard that his face turns bright red and he goes into a bit of a coughing spell. My joy is short lived as I coax him to breathe easy while rubbing his back.

He regains his composure quickly. The scarlet hue fades from his features, although delightful remnants of our shared moment seem to linger.

He covers his trach and begins to talk. His voice is a bit raspy while speaking in slower, broken sentences because of the trach. "I'm so sorry…for what happened then, Bella. I really did not want...it to happen…but there seems to be…a disconnect…between a man's penis…and his brain. I was sure that you…were so disgusted…by me and…must have thought…I was a deviant…of some sort, that I just…could not look at you. I was mortified."

He continues, "So you don't hate me…or think I'm a creep?"

I allay his fears, "Of course not, Edward. I don't hate you, nor do I think you are a creep because of that one episode. Buuuuuut…just so you know…when you were unconscious, your family and I talked pretty extensively about you. Your mom even brought in a couple of photo albums. I've seen all your embarrassing baby pictures. She told me you were quite a little streaker as a preschooler; apparently you had a penchant for stripping down in front of company. Sooooo, I may have to reserve my rating of you on the zero-to-ten creep-scale until I have more to go on."

He is laughing again and so am I. Seeing him smile and laugh makes me feel amazing. I couldn't believe that only a few weeks ago he was so incredibly fragile. He was tethered to this life with a brittle string that could have snapped at any moment, and now here he is, belly-laughing at a bit of sarcasm. It is so hard to reconcile the two.

He covers his trach to speak again. "While we are…talking about this, there is something, else that has been…bothering me a bit." He looks hesitant and unsure so I assure him he could talk to me about anything.

Unlike me and my unfortunate choice of words from a couple minutes ago, he pauses to find the right way to express himself. "Bella, after the incident…when you came back…in to my room…you seemed to wait and give…me quite a bit of…advanced warning…when you popped…your head back in. I wanted to…assure you that I…was not doing…anything inappropriate. I would never, Bella. Well, okay…not never-never…but you know what I mean. I'm just letting…you know this because…I want to make sure…I have the lowest…possible score I can get…on your…zero-to-ten creep-scale."

His body language is more relaxed, his gaze meets mine, and I notice once again just how painfully handsome he is, even in his current condition. I know I would melt into a pile of goo if I ever saw him healthy again, in a tuxedo.

He needs a little more reassurance. "Edward, I think you misunderstood me. Yes, honestly, I was embarrassed for me as well as you, but I wanted to give you some privacy to compose yourself. I did not think that you would need that time for…other reasons. But just so you know—discovering a patient in the middle of such a situation would not have been a nursing first either."

He smiles and says, "Yet another reason why…I could never do your job."

He takes my hand and continues. The tingle is back, and for the life of me, I don't know why, but this small gesture causes my stomach to flip a bit.

"Bella, I want to thank you...for all you have...done for me. However...it is a debt I know...I can never repay.

"I felt very conflicted...earlier between gratefulness...and embarrassment. You helped me with...that as well...now I can look you...in the eye and...tell you that no amount...of thank yous...will ever suffice...for how you have helped me.

"From what I understand...I am pretty lucky to be alive...and you played...a pretty huge part in that. I know that while...the doctors may have...come up with a plan...on how to fix me...you...Angela and the other nurses...that cared for me...were the ones...carrying it out...and giving the doctors feedback...on how I was doing."

I shift in my seat, willing the tingle to go away. It's not working.

"Sure you did so much... for me clinically...but even now...you have made me feel... like a whole person again...with only your words. You have no idea...how grateful I am."

"I'm sorry if...I acted indifferent to you. I just did not know...what to say or...how to act around you...after that incident. Please know that...I feel anything...but indifference...when it comes to you."

He is now rubbing his thumb over my hand. It's no grand gesture, yet the sensation from this small, apparently inconspicuous motion, is causing my mind to short circuit. His words and this tiny movement is consuming my ability to articulate in response.

After his diatribe, I just sit there and blink at him, completely unaware of how many seconds have ticked past us. He slowly lets my hand go. He looks somewhat disappointed with downcast eyes, probably by my lack of a reply. I'm able to clear my jumbled mind and respond, "Edward, please, you don't have to thank me for doing my job, but I do have a confession to make."

His attention is now completely focused on me. "I have been in this unit for just over a year and I love what I do. But I know there are hidden dangers associated with this job. And I'm not talking about catching any kind of weird cooties either."

He smiles and looks away only for a moment, then his piercing green eyes lock again with mine as I continue. I have never seen anyone with more beautiful eyes in all my life. This time I am the one to take his hands in mine. "I have never felt closer to a patient and more invested in one person's care as I have with you, Edward.

"Your family played a big part in showing me who you were—who you still are. They love you so much, and you're lucky to have such an incredible support system.

"The problem was that not only did I care for you here, but I thought about you all the time when I wasn't here. I called in often under the guise of other reasons and checked up on you. I was so worried at one point that I prayed for you every night and cried many times when I thought that you could lose this battle. I did what no nurse should do—I became too attached.

"I truly care for all my patients, and I do get upset at times when things turn out for the worst, but never to the point where I could potentially panic if it were to happen under my care. What I'm trying to say is, I don't know if I would have been able to do my job properly if something went terribly wrong with you.

"One of the first things your dad did was hand over the reins to other doctors and specialists. Although he was still involved in choosing your doctors and nurses, he let them make the decisions that they were able to objectively make. He knew this and acted in your best interest. I did not. I did a disservice to you really."

I shift in my seat and get a little closer to him, even though I couldn't move too far away if I wanted to. The grip he has on my hands quickly prompts me to think about his burgeoning physical strength; soon he will be every bit of the man he was when he came in.

No matter how many times I've seen it happen in other patients, I will never forget Edward and his incredible recovery. I will remember and use his story as a reinforcement of why I chose this career.

I snap myself out of my commemoration and finish my thought. I'm so easily distracted around him. "I was specifically questioned by my boss on how I was doing with your care. She knew the potential risks. Well, I lied and told her I was fine. I did not want to stop caring for you, Edward, so I should apologize to you."

He's smiling again and says, "Okay. Apology accepted. I'm glad you didn't…give up on me. I don't think it's…quite as bad as...popping a boner...on you while...you are trying...to do your job and...then ignoring you...afterward but yeah...we're good. So...are we cool? Friends?"

I begin laughing, and it makes his smile even more radiant. As soon as I'm able, I respond, "Absolutely! Friends."

He shakes my hand, and at that point, Alice comes walking happily into the room looking like the cat who ate the canary. She greets us both with a huge smile. Her entrance seems timed so perfectly that I'm almost certain she was just outside listening to at least part of our dialogue.

I let her visit her brother, but she gives me some sort of conspiratorial wink. I don't know what that's all about so I just brush it off and help out the other nurses around the unit to keep myself busy.

Maybe the wink is because I told her yesterday that I've finally made the decision to move into the apartment that Alice and Jasper were renting.

It's an amazing place. It used to be the carriage house of the beautiful old Victorian home where Alice, Jasper and Jane live. They had recently just finished having the separate structure restored into a one bedroom apartment.

I met with her a couple of times to sign the lease and square some things away.

Each time we met, she had been talking up Edward to me. It almost seemed as if she was trying to get me to fall for him. She even said at one point that he needed someone like me in his life.

Also, I heard her talking to Rose on the phone one day saying, "I know, right? They would be perfect for one another." I can't be sure who she was talking about, but I had a sneaking suspicion it was about Edward and me.

The other day, I began bringing some boxes and lighter furniture to my new apartment, and Jessica had helped me with the move. I introduced Alice to my girlfriend, and although she tried to hide it, I know I saw shock and disappointment in her eyes.

At the time, I realized that maybe I should have told her sooner about Jessica because you never know; some people may not take well to that news and not allow me to rent out a part of their home. I approached Alice about it immediately afterward, and she assured me that it was no problem. I believed her, but I couldn't shake the feeling that she was still disappointed.

**FL&SC**

After finishing up with helping another nurse, Alice calls me over and hands me an array of paint chips. She tells me to pick out some colors for my room and that we will be having a painting party. She giggles and says while winking at me, "My little brother over here won't be able to help because he's still playing sick so pretty nurses can take care of him. Some people are so lazy."

I found out that Alice always called Edward her "little brother" because she is a whole nine minutes older. Not to mention, as a baby, he was dwarfed in size compared to Alice. She weighed in at almost three pounds more than Edward at birth.

She makes sure to mention to everyone that he was the runt of the litter. He retorts by saying that she was just trying to snuff him out to get all the attention, even in the womb.

After Alice's comment accusing him of malingering, he adds, "Listen, brat, no one wants out of here...more than I do...I can't wait until...this is over with. Every moment...is hell on earth."

He looks over at me a little remorseful at his statement and tries to apologize, "I didn't mean it like that, Bella. You've been great. It's just that I…what I meant to say…"

I interrupt him and say, "Edward, believe me you don't have to explain. I can't wait until you get sprung from Room 4 either. It doesn't mean we can't still be friends afterward. Anyway, since I'm moving into your sister's apartment, you can't get rid of me that easy now, can you?"

I don't think the look of happiness has left Edward's expression for the past ten minutes. He is going to need a nap soon if he keeps this up. "I am gonna hold you to it, Swan, you and me…buddies," he says while tapping his chest with a peace sign.

I think my smile is matching his. I'm looking forward to our friendship. I just have to be creative about it with Jessica, because I know she would not understand.

I'm confident that if Edward came into my life some other way, that we would still find ourselves as friends—Florence Nightingale Syndrome be damned.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I obviously don't own Twilight, but I need to mention this fact occasionally. **

**Thank you to all who read and even more to those who review. I'm grateful for all your input and encouragement.**

**My betas humble me with their skill. Kitchmill is my hero.**

**To write is human. To edit, divine. Steven King.**

Chapter 6

Edward

Rehab—the last step in my journey. It's been more than a month and a half since the fire and I can't wait to get out of this place and finally go home. After the ICU, I spent another week in the hospital's step-down unit. I was then transferred here to get me strong enough to get on with my life. I now go to physical therapy twice a day, and I go to a counselor—which is their politically correct term for shrink—three times a week. Thankfully my in-patient status will be over in a couple of days.

I'm walking well and starting to gain back a lot of the strength and weight I lost while I was in the ICU. I think I'm kicking ass. It will be a while before I have the strength and stamina to run again, but it is just another goal on my list.

I couldn't be more thrilled the day that my trach was removed. The site is now almost completely healed and one of the few physical scars I have from the fire. It is obvious to me every time I look in the mirror, but in time it will be less noticeable. I try to keep it all in perspective because I know it could have been much worse.

While, physically, I'm coming along, emotionally…things are starting to become more problematic. During the day, I try to maintain control of the memories most of the time, but beyond my control are the nightmares I've started having.

The staff here reported my "night terrors"—as they called them—to the doctor, and next thing you know, they are throwing pills down my throat at night to help me sleep. Not only that, but they make me talk about my feelings to a shrink. It's all a bit more than I'm comfortable with.

While I'm sure Dr. Cope (I know, great name for a shrink, right?) is a fine practitioner, she wants me to go on medication for my diagnosis of PTSD, or post-traumatic stress disorder, depression and anxiety. I'm not sure about all these drugs she wants me to take, but she makes me feel like I'm a basket case and that it's mandatory for people like me.

I hope the medications kick in soon, because now that I am able to remember that night in detail, flashbacks hit me every once in a while, and they leave me feeling sick in their aftermath.

I realize that Harry and that boy are dead because of me. If I had just told Harry my concerns about backtracking the way we went in, then we would all be alive. But I was a coward; I just wanted to get out of there as fast as we could, so I went along with his egress plan. It's something that I have not been able to tell anyone about yet. I don't know if I will ever be ready to explain what happened. It hurts too much. Everyone acts like I'm some kind of hero just because I didn't die like everyone else. It's ridiculous. For now, I'll just have to live with this shame and hope it doesn't slowly destroy my sanity like some type of emotive cancer.

On the lighter side, one thing that truly seems to brighten my day after a round or two with Dr. Cope is Bella. She has been visiting me ever since I left the ICU.

When I was still in the hospital's step down unit, she used to stop in for a while during the days she was working. She would come down during her lunch break or for a few minutes after her shift was over.

Now that I'm in rehab, she comes out for a visit just about each day that she is not working. Well, except for Saturdays and Sundays. She told me she couldn't make it in for a visit on weekends. Honestly, I'm just grateful for any visit. I really thought she would just blow me off once I was out of the hospital, but she has been true to her word, and we are becoming great friends.

The facility is about an hour away from her new apartment in my sister's carriage house, so it is a pretty big commitment for her to drive up for a visit.

She and Alice seem to have become pretty good friends as well. On a couple of occasions she has carpooled with my sister and took Jane and Kate along for the ride. Those days were the best, but the moment the elevator doors closed and they were on their way back home, I had to fight back the lump in my throat. That's when the feelings of isolation and loneliness hit me the hardest. I would look around the floor where I was staying and miss being home so much. I t was as if everyone else was able to leave this building and get on with their lives, but I'm imprisoned by my own weakness. Those emotions just strengthen my resolve to get better faster. So far, I'm exceeding everyone's expectations except for my own. Honestly, I've been ready to leave from the first day I could walk myself to the bathroom and back. I need to get home soon.

I want to start living my life again and I want Bella to be a part of it.

I truly feel a special connection to Bella, and I hope she feels the same way. Sure she is beautiful, smart, caring, capable, funny, amazing, and...I could go on and on, but no one I have ever met makes me feel the way that she does. I know that patients sometimes get attached to their caregivers and vice-versa, but I refuse to believe that is the explanation for the way I feel. If that were the case, wouldn't I feel remotely similar to at least one of the other nurses who have cared for me?

I think all these medications are messing with my mind, but I swear, when Bella touches my hand, I feel down to my toes and everywhere in between.

I've noticed I'm hyper-aware of her as well. Even if my eyes are closed, I would be able to tell she was in the room. For example, one day when Bella arrived to visit me, I was looking out the window in the solarium. It was a gray and rainy afternoon which matched my mood. It was rare that a day went by where I didn't get at least one visitor, but I thought today was going to be one of those days. Everyone was working or busy and my mom was out of town, visiting an old friend from her college sorority.

With my back turned to the door, something about the feeling in the room suddenly began to change. The air felt increasingly electric, and every cell in my body seemed to be excitedly waiting in anticipation for something to happen. I thought for a moment that the storm was going to be getting worse and that thunder and lightning would soon follow.

Lost in these thoughts, I didn't notice the soft footsteps behind me. The feeling was intensifying until I felt a hand touch my shoulder. It might as well have been a bolt of lightning from the sky. I nearly jumped out of my skin. I wish my physical therapist was there to see just how agile and quick my movements were when I spun around to see Bella standing before me, looking just as shocked by my response as I was to her touch.

It's the strangest thing. I don't want another prescription, or for anyone to think I'm crazier than they already do, so I have to keep this little neurosis to myself.

I would have a hard time if I had to sit down and put a one-word label on the way I feel about Bella. It would be a combination of respect, admiration, awe and love. Yes, love. It's the kind of love you have for someone you are not romantically involved with but still have intense feelings for.

I haven't told anyone about these feeling I have for Bella, but I think my mom suspects something. She said that whenever I talk about her I sound "reverent" or something. Maybe reverence is the one-word-label I'm looking for; leave it to Mom. I don't really want to lay my cards on the table just yet, so I am backing off on the reverence, especially in front of my mom.

I remember the first time Bella visited me in rehab when I saw her in real clothing and not green scrubs. She wore a dark blue sweater, jeans, boots and makeup. With just that simple outfit, she took my breath away. She is simply stunning, but now that I know her as a person, I am truly in awe.

I honestly don't know what, if anything, she sees in me. She's very hard to read. There are days that I think she may be interested in me as more than just a friend, but in the next minute, she seems to snap out of it, and she is my buddy again, or worse—my nurse.

Although our conversations never wander outside the realm of friendship, we never seem to run out of things to talk about, either. I have to make a point to start getting a little more personal. Come to think of it, I can't believe I don't even know if she has a boyfriend. I don't think she does or surely she would have mentioned him by now, right?

She actually never mentioned anyone she has ever dated before. I know all about her problems with her dad and mom, and all about her job. I take a moment and realize they are all relatively safe topics. She could even be married and I wouldn't know because I never asked. I have just been so pleased that she chose to continue our relationship beyond the ICU, I didn't even think about her life outside of her work until now.

She has a whole separate life beyond what little I know, and I never thought to ask anything about it. It's like I thought the only important things in her life are her career and me, as if her life only consists of our own little bubble.

I let myself speculate why she has not asked me any personal questions either. I briefly wonder what, if anything, my family has mentioned about my past.

I start looking back at our interactions together and I see a pattern that I did not notice before. Or more likely, I see clues I didn't want to acknowledge.

She seems to have no interest in my personal life beyond my accident.

She can't come up on weekends or any time after four p.m. on the weekdays she is off from work.

Now that I think of it, my texts or calls during weekends when she is off, or the ones on weekday nights, all go unanswered until the next morning.

She has a boyfriend. I'm sure of it now. Maybe even a husband. She probably just didn't want to mention him. But why?

Just the thought of someone touching her makes me feel a twinge of anger and jealousy. If there is a man in her life, how serious is their relationship?

I begin to notice a now familiar feeling coursing through me—anxiety. It's something I never had a problem with until recently.

My heart is fluttering like the wings of a hummingbird, and my chest feels as if there is a vice around it. I suddenly find myself trying to avoid plunging into the icy waters of an all-out panic attack.

The first time it happened was during a session with Dr. Cope. The woman has this way of poking around in my mind until she finds just what she is looking for. When she finds it, she doesn't relent. I thought I was dying right there in her office that day. At the time, my only conscious thought was that it was ironic I would survive the ICU and wind up dying in a shrink's office.

That day was the first time that Dr. Cope ever put her hands on me. For such a small woman, she forcefully held my shoulders as I was shaking. She spoke softly to me, directed me to look her in the eyes, and convinced me to breathe slowly. At first, I tried to follow her directions, but I felt as if every breath I took was useless, I needed more and more air to survive. I was sure I was suffocating, that something had gone wrong in my recovery.

I didn't understand why she wasn't calling 911, which incited my panic further. I thought the longer she waited to call for help, the less of a chance I would have to survive. I had no idea that physically, I was fine and that my mind was causing my body's vicious reaction. It all stemmed from the dread of the reality I was facing. I was no hero, I killed the boy, and Harry was dead because of my cowardice. I was terrified of the revelations that were brought to the forefront of my mind. Revelations, at that point, I was in no condition to explain to Dr. Cope. Nor was I able to dwell upon them for the sake of my own sanity.

Of all the doctors I have seen in recent months, ironically, the one causing me the most pain is one that up until now, never even physically laid a hand on me.

Dr. Cope successfully talked me down off the ledge that she brought me out on. That session lasted twice as long as scheduled. Since then, at my request, we have not revisited those issues. However, we have gone over how to recognize potential triggers and early warning signs, as well as how to mitigate the anxiety before it turns to panic.

Of course my newfound diagnosis of being even more mentally deficient than I thought I would ever be capable of, came with another prescription—Xanax. It's supposed to relax me and help me sleep. I don't want to take it too often because it will just prove to me and everyone else what a coward and a weakling I really am.

Life seems to mock me at every turn. This injury not only degraded me physically, but mentally as well, and I despise my weaknesses. I have since made a pact with myself to rebuild not only my body, but my ability to temper my emotions, as well.

All these feelings within me are in overdrive. No woman has ever affected me like Bella. I feel everything related to her so intensely, and I realize it has to be because of this newfound defect in the part of my brain that used to safely harbor my mental health. I know the sensation that I am suffocating is all in my mind. In fact, in reality, I can breathe just fine.

If I give in and follow my mind's instinct to rapidly take in huge breaths of air, I will fall deeper. Against this compulsion, I slow my breathing and I feel myself calming down without the assistance of any pills. I can consider this a small victory.

I only hope I can continue to gather up the fortitude to deal with what is left of my life and sanity, especially where Bella is concerned.

Bella and I are friends; it is all we should ever be. I'm sure she must be in a relationship because someone as amazing as she would never be alone for long. Even if she wasn't, why would she ever want damaged goods like me?

I have to stow away my testosterone drenched urges and realize all the good I have in the friendship we are establishing.

Looking back, I can honestly say that I have never really been turned down by any woman I have ever pursued, whether it was for one night or for longer. Maybe I was just lucky, because, for the most part, women have always seemed to pursue me. But Bella is in a different league. She is far too good for me, and I'll bet she is far too good for the shithead I am sure that she is dating as well. Of course, that is yet to be confirmed, but I'm sure that will be the case.

I'm so lucky to have her in my life in any capacity. How can I be as selfish and egotistical as to think that she could ever possibly be interested in me that way? But no matter what, I need to know more about her.

I feel bi-polar, going from one extreme to the next, when I think of Bella. I certainly do not need any new diagnoses from Dr. Cope, or any new prescriptions. Damn, I need to talk to someone other than Dr. Cope to help me sort this out.

I know; Alice. Of course! She is friends with Bella, and I have always been able to confide in Alice.

It's a little after five o'clock, and I decide to give her a call. She was working every day this week until four and I haven't talked to her for the past couple days. Maybe I can slip the topic of Bella in without making it look like that was the reason I called. I hope that her "gut feelings" have taken the day off.

It is really spooky, but Alice always seems to know stuff about my relationships. She calls it her "gut feelings."

I speed dial her and she answers her cell on the first ring. I swear, sometimes I think she knows I'm going to call before I do. She sounds smug almost before she breathes out a word. "Hello, my dear brother, I was expecting your call."

I hate it when she does that crap. "Hey, Ali, how have you been?"

"I've been good. I'm sorry I haven't spoken to you in a couple days, but I knew if there is something important that you needed to talk about, you would call. I'm just surprised it took you this long."

God, she is so arrogant thinking she knows everything. As if I'm so predictable. I have no recourse but to play stupid. "What are you talking about brat?"

"I know you're excited to come home soon but don't pretend like the main reason for your call isn't to gain some information about Bella." Yep, she is smug alright.

"Can't you just ease into this? Why do you have to be so blunt?"

Alice continues but seems a little more contrite. "There's no sense in beating around the bush, because we both know this has been coming for a while. All I have to say is you have to go directly to the source. I know in the past I have withheld my gut feelings for fear that I would offend you, but this time, all I can tell you is, be her friend. You have to talk to her."

Something in my stomach isn't sitting right and I suddenly feel a bit ill. I think that anxiety may be on the verge of coming back. "She's married isn't she?"

"No Edward, she's not married, but that's all I can say. I know you guys have no problems talking to one another about everything under the sun, unless of course it's personal. She's scared. Just keep an open mind and everything will eventually work out."

Now I am more confused than ever. "What the hell is that supposed to mean? Why the hell would she be scared of me?"

"She is not scared of you 'per-se'. She's scared that if she shares everything about herself with you, it could affect your friendship. That is ALL I am going to say about Bella…so ask me about what I'm doing to your house for your coming home party."

I am frustrated now. "For the love of God, woman! You are driving me up a wall. Within the course of a one-minute conversation, I'm worse off now than before I called you. You are confusing the shit out of me with Bella and now you're trying to change the subject to tell me that you're violating the sanctity of my home while I'm not around to do anything about it! And, what coming home party?"

"Temper, temper, Edward. Just relax and we'll all see you tomorrow. I promise, it will all work out."

I know she is done with the subject of Bella so I try to pinch her for more information about the latter topic. "What have you done to my house Alice?"

"Don't worry, we just spruced up a bit. But I gotta go. There is still so much to do! Oh, I can't wait to see you home. Bye little brother. I love you!"

Oh, no she doesn't!

"Wait, no. Don't hang—up."

She hangs up on me before I can finish my sentence. Damn, she can be so difficult. Women! I didn't even get a chance to mention my laundry; if she really wants to help she could throw a couple loads in the washer.

After my anger and frustration at my sister seems to simmer down, I have to remind myself that Alice and I are as thick as thieves. She has never steered me wrong before. I need to let go and trust her about my house and, more importantly, about Bella. Well, maybe I shouldn't trust her with my house. God knows what she is up to.

They say that twins have a special kind of bond and I honestly believe it. Alice has always seemed to be able to predict the way my relationships would turn out, and she has been pretty accurate with her own as well. When she met Jasper for the first time—a chance meeting which lasted all of about five minutes—she told me that he would be her husband soon. I laughed at her then but of course she was right. I should have known better than to bet against Alice.

Years ago, Alice said she knew I would wind up being a young father and get married in my early twenties, but not with the same woman. I argued that she only said that because I was a bit on the promiscuous side during college, so it wasn't a stretch to say something like that due to my behavior at the time. Most of all, I did not like her insinuations. I was angry with her thinking that I would be as irresponsible as to randomly father a child. I was infuriated with her. I called her a freak, amongst other things, and I didn't talk to her for almost a month. In short, I was an ass.

When she met Victoria, Alice knew that she was the one I was going to marry. I whole-heartedly agreed. Victoria was intense in and out of bed, and I fell hard and quick. Alice also stated that my marriage to her would be short lived. Of course, at the time, she did not dare tell me this because of the last fit I pitched, so she kept that tidbit of information away from me. Looking back, I wish she hadn't.

I had every intention of honoring my vows until death do us part. I just did not know that no matter how good your intentions are, there are certain problems that can arise that are beyond anyone's control. Those problems can wind up taking your good intentions and crumbling them to the ground.

I have never, ever been unfaithful; it was never a consideration, even though my wife at the time withheld all physical contact from me in the last year of our marriage. That sucked. I tried to get us to go to therapy at first but it got to a point that I realized our marriage was not the problem. The problem lied solely within Victoria's mind. I did not know when we married that she would soon develop severe paranoia and depression.

Victoria is almost ten years older than me. When we married, I was twenty-four and she was thirty-three. I always knew that she wanted children, I just never knew to what extent.

A year prior to our wedding, just as Victoria and I were newly engaged, I found out I was a father to a little girl. Alice was right. Regardless, it was still quite a shock, to say the least. It caused Victoria and me a good deal of discord in our relationship, but we overcame our problems, thinking we were stronger for it.

Long story short, a couple months before I met Victoria, I had a one night stand with Tanya. At the time she was a girl I had just met during a work related conference at a convention center. There was liquor, a hotel, and a physical attraction. That night, the most incredible mistake of my life was made, and my girl Kate was later born.

Well, we had what would be called a condom malfunction and apparently, one of my boys got through. Of course, I did not find out about this for more than two years after that night.

At the time, Tanya was involved in a relationship. She found out he was messing around and eventually forgave him, but I was her revenge fuck. When she found out about the pregnancy, of course she tried to pawn off my child on him. To be fair, it was possible, and for nine months Tanya secretly had her fingers crossed that her baby wasn't the result of our one night stand.

Baby Kate came out with bright blonde hair and what turned out to be my green eyes. In her heart, Tanya knew the truth, but Kate had them both instantly wrapped around her little finger. Kate was a beautiful baby, and I couldn't imagine not falling in love with her. There was a slight problem though, since the boyfriend, Laurent, was part Haitian with dark eyes, dark skin and black hair. However, his brother and mother had light hair and blue eyes, so ultimately Tanya's lie was feasible.

When they started having more problems within their relationship, Laurent got wise and demanded a DNA test. Kate was about a year old when the cat was officially out of the bag.

He walked out on Tanya the moment he found out Kate was not his, leaving her and my daughter essentially destitute. Apparently, Tanya was completely reliant upon her ex-boyfriend for most of her expenses, and when he left, so did all the money. The son of a bitch never looked back on the child that he once claimed to love.

She tracked me down while going from one friend's sofa to another, with hardly two nickels to rub together.

Since then we have a developed pretty civil relationship where I have joint custody, and we work out a schedule where Kate is with me nearly half the time. I do not pay child support "per-se." Rather, Tanya lives free of charge in a rental property that I own, not far from where I live. I also pay for their heat, hot water, electricity, satellite TV and landline telephone. Tanya has a separate credit card that I fund for Kate's clothing and incidentals. She has always been trustworthy with my money and for that I am grateful and fortunate. To some, this would be considered excessive and certainly more than a court order for support would mandate, considering Kate lives with me about half the time. But if I did not provide this to Tanya, she would not be able to afford a decent place to live and Kate ultimately would suffer. I will not have my child living in a low rent, crime-riddled area just to save a couple bucks. I would do anything for my girl.

Kate is my world. We're very close and I would never have it any other way. Tanya may have done some unsavory things at one point, but she is a good mom.

Now Tanya finally has her life on track with a steady, better paying job and is dating a pretty decent guy who has a daughter that is Kate's age. I wish her happiness and better luck this time.

By the time I got Tanya and my daughter settled into their new home, Victoria and I were newlyweds. It was hectic at first for all of us, but once everything was sorted out, I had never been happier. I had a beautiful baby girl and I really believed that Victoria would be a second mom to Kate, we all would grow old together along with a couple more kids to complete our happy family. Apparently fate had other plans.

Victoria wanted to have children right away. Since I was already a dad, I felt like I was a pro with the whole parenting thing, so I was on board with her decision. However, even in the early days of our marriage, there were signs of trouble. I tried to pretend everything was fine, but I started to notice that she was becoming extremely jealous of Tanya, and a bit cool toward Kate.

After a few months without becoming pregnant she began to despair. I didn't understand. A few months was a relatively short time to start worrying as much as Victoria was, and I thought something didn't seem right. When I pressed her, she confessed to me then that she stopped using birth control not long after we were engaged. I was pretty shocked and angry that she would do that without telling me first. Victoria sweet-talked me through it, and like the sucker I am, I forgave her without much of an argument.

The months passed and she would be increasingly upset each time she got her period. I understood her sadness to an extent, but then she started to become depressed which would last for days afterward.

I began to worry about her. She was not herself and it was getting difficult to remember the last time she smiled or enjoyed anything about our life together. She seemed miserable.

She became obsessed with getting pregnant. Slowly but surely, sex became a regimented routine. As the months progressed, it was more and more like a chore. Finally, Victoria began looking at sex solely as a means to an end. She no longer enjoyed it, nor did she want anything other than the most functional and efficient means of getting the job done. She was not interested in foreplay, and she rarely took any enjoyment out of it. She just wanted me to finish as soon as possible so she could go on with her day, or go to sleep.

It was a nightmare. Sex twice a day, every day, with someone who takes no enjoyment out of it gets old pretty fast. Prior to this, our sex life was great. She was adventurous, passionate, and her sex drive rivaled mine. I couldn't understand what had happened to the woman I married.

After just over a year and numerous appointments with fertility specialists, it was concluded that she probably could not have a child of her own. Most of her eggs weren't viable. However, the doctor assured her that she would be able to carry a child with a donated egg and my sperm. With that option we would be able to have the next best thing, or so I thought.

Not so. This was not good enough for Victoria.

She already made it clear that having a child that wasn't biologically hers, or adopting a baby, was not an option. She wanted her own. Period.

She became highly irrational. Sex was no longer a part of our marriage. She was no longer interested. No matter how hard I tried, she was not having any of it.

I suggested counseling. She refused. I still tried to be as loving and understanding as I could. I tried often to be romantic with flowers and candlelight dinners, only to be laughed at, or at times, be subjected to her blatant hostility. She would accuse me of trying to pressure her into having sex with me, when all I wanted was my wife back.

In retrospect, all of this now makes me remember how challenging our relationship was, even before the breaking point.

At the time, I held out hope that she would eventually overcome her depression, but instead it worsened and she started to develop paranoia.

After a while, she started thinking I was cheating on her with everyone and anyone. It didn't help that Tanya, who smelled blood in the water, began making my life difficult. She would flirt with me every chance she got and even made a pass at me once. We cleared up that little problem immediately and ever since Tanya knows that she is the mother of my child and NOTHING more.

I finally got Victoria to agree to counseling, which was when she accused me of sleeping with the counselor. I talked to her sister, who saw what was going on in our marriage. I asked her to convince Victoria to go to a doctor. I believed Victoria needed to be medicated, and at this point, her sister agreed. After that talk, she accused me of sleeping with her sister, too. When I was at work, she said I was having sex with random girls at the firehouse. Her paranoia was unbearable.

One month, she even charged a couple thousand dollars to our credit cards when she hired multiple private investigators to find evidence of my infidelity. She was losing her grip on reality.

It finally came to a boiling point after a bachelor party for one of the guys at the firehouse. Of course, she would flip if I went, so I declined the invitation outright. Emmett, who knew of all my problems and continuously told me to just "divorce her ass," would not hear of me missing out on the party. He essentially dragged me out of my house. He assured Victoria that he would keep me out of trouble. I tried to resist but strangely enough Victoria relented and let me go without much fuss at all. I was pretty suspicious about her sudden change of heart, but Emmett was on a mission. He was not taking no for an answer.

I went, and we had a good time. I do admit I got pretty drunk while watching girls dance almost naked. Emmett bought me a lap dance that I really, really, did not want. I tried to decline but Emmett seemed to be making the decisions that night. Again, he got his way and I got the dance.

Shit, no woman had touched me in so long; it would not be a comfortable predicament to be stuck with when it was over. Nevertheless, some pretty girl who wore far too much perfume grinded on me for the allotted time and when it was over, it was all I could do to stop myself from running to the bathroom to whack off like half the other losers in the bar.

That place was on the up and up though. There were no backroom deals or specials, and the girls were pretty clean looking.

It was getting late, and despite the beers, I was worried about what was waiting for me when I got home. I was right to worry.

It was just after two a.m. when I was dropped off at my house. Victoria was awake and waiting for me.

Of course she smelled the perfume on me and started with her accusations, more venomous than ever. I was still pretty drunk and I was just so damn tired of the shit I had to endure when I'd never done anything to deserve her malice.

I will be the first to admit that I have a little problem with my mouth, and I have a bit of an anger issue. I know I can be exceedingly nasty if provoked. I don't feel provoked too often, but usually, if I am emotionally hurt or trying in vain to defend myself, my nasty side comes out. That was no exception, and with the beer acting as a multiplier to my nastiness, I knew this wouldn't end well. The problem was, at that point, I was just about done caring.

I said some pretty cruel things. Actually, I yelled some pretty cruel things. I never could have imagined how the hate filled remarks coming out of my mouth could ever be directed at my wife. But there I was, shouting them inches from her face.

I look back on it now and realize, I snapped. I never laid a hand on her, I never would—ever. But I saw a hint of fear in her eyes that night. My words were hurtful and hit their mark apparently because I made her cry. She had stopped crying months prior, leaving only anger and distrust in place of the sadness. Now after yelling at her, she cried again. At the time all I could think was "good."

I found it unusual, but she walked into the kitchen during my tirade. She took a knife from the butcher block and then tried to cut me with it. She missed, but she persisted until I managed to grab her and talk her into dropping the knife. She did sneak in a pretty good punch to my face with her other hand and even bloodied my nose. She then began to cry hysterically. For one brief moment, I felt remorseful. I never wanted to see her cry and I tried to console her. No good deed goes unpunished, because as soon as I did, she tried to kick me in the balls.

I was done. That was the moment I officially gave up; there was nothing left for me in my marriage. I got a hotel room that night and a recommendation for a lawyer the next day. My marriage of only a little over two years was over. Irreconcilable differences, withholding of affection and mental cruelty was the divorce claim. I did not want her in trouble for the assault so it was swept under the rug. The divorce was not contested and my marriage was over by the time I was twenty-seven years old.

I can't say that my heart was broken; it wasn't. My divorce didn't come as a shock. I knew we were headed down that road if something didn't drastically change. It was just the speed that it all happened. Yes, it was difficult, I felt like such a failure after filing for divorce after only a couple years.

As it turns out, it was the best thing that I could have done for Victoria. She finally began getting the help that she needed. From what I hear, she is doing well and back in her hometown with her sister and brother as her support system. I hope she was able to find her happiness.

Even after that, I still believe in marriage.

**A/N part II: I guess you could call this a filler chapter, not much in the way of progress, but some back story needed to be told. I will update again very soon to keep it moving along.**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I should have mentioned last chap that all mistakes are always mine because I fiddle. I fiddled a lot last chapter and now I cringe at the outcome.**

**If it wasn't for kitchmill and her eagle eye, believe me, this wouldn't be readable.**

**So E's going home AND he gets some interesting info on the ride.**

Chapter 7

Edward

Today is the day. I'm finally going home after more than two months away. It's in record time from what I've been told, but I'm determined to get my life back to normal as soon as possible. Or whatever my new normal is.

Dr. Cope's three times a week counseling regimen will be modified to once a week. Unfortunately, the medications she has prescribed will continue to be a part of my new daily routine for the foreseeable future. I will continue to be in physical therapy as an outpatient twice a week for probably at least another month, and finally, my pulmonologist Dr. Caius will be a fixture in my life for years to come. At least I don't think he's a pervert anymore, so I guess that's a plus.

I have an appointment with Dr. Caius tomorrow, but aside from that one bump in the road, I will be a free man. Dad says he wants to go with me for the office visit. He and Dr. Caius have a long standing mutual respect for each other that has now transformed into a friendship. They have already played a round or two of golf together. Hopefully, Dad let him win; it would be poor form to whip his ass when he saved mine.

I don't know when I can get back to work though; that is what Dr. Caius and I will be discussing after my examination. With any luck, I'll be back sooner rather than later. Harry and the boy whose name I learned was Jared, died because of my fear and indecision. I have to prove to myself that I can do better—for them. I need to be redeemed.

There's so much to look forward to; not only am I going home, but Bella will be taking me there. She'll be the only one since everyone else will be at my place fixing it up or something. I'm still trying to figure out what needs fixing, but since Alice has something to do with it, anything is possible. I just better not find ruffles or pink stuff anywhere when she's finished.

Hopefully she saw the need to do my laundry; that would be helpful.

On our ride home, I plan on asking Bella some personal questions. We're close enough that I don't think I would be overstepping any imaginary boundaries.

I'm trying to contain any inappropriate feelings I have for Bella, but damn, sometimes it is pretty difficult. While my mind is cooperative, my dick wants nothing to do with acting rational. Anyway, I'd like to know if she has a boyfriend or a husband waiting at home for her.

I'll be discharged at one p.m. after the doctor comes to see me, which is when Bella will arrive to pick me up. Meanwhile, I'm packed and ready to go.

I look at the clock; it's only nine-thirty a.m. This morning is dragging; especially since I was wide awake well before six. I could barely sleep last night. I was more excited than a kid on Christmas Eve. What little sleep I did get was nightmare-free, and I'm completely wired this morning.

The RNs and the aides got me a bon voyage cake and we had a little going away party last evening. They were all really great and I will never forget my time here. It took a lot of work from a lot of different people to get me back to this point, and it's quite a humbling experience. I'm very grateful that I was given this second chance, one that Harry and Jared were never afforded.

I decide to take a long walk around the unit one more time. I want to take everything in; making sure it will forever hold a place in my memory. For the past few days I haven't needed to use my walker, I'm up and using one hundred percent of my own power. I can recall with so much clarity how difficult it was for me to do what I'm almost taking for granted right now. Not long ago, each step was an enormous effort, but each day it seemed to get just a bit easier. I have regained my mobility, but I still have quite a way to go to regain all my strength.

I'll also be going back to my gym, I can't wait. Physical therapy is serving its purpose, but I want to feel that rush of endorphins after a good workout. Already my clothes are fitting me better and I gained nine pounds since leaving the hospital. I have about another seven pounds to get back to the weight I was before.

I'm standing just down the hall from the bank of elevators when I notice Bella stepping out. She's really early. She turns and spots me standing there, and the beautiful smile on her face nearly weakens my knees.

She's wearing a short skirt and heels with a snug sweater that is showing off her curves to the point that it should be illegal. Her legs—dear God.

As she moves closer to me, I feel my body begin to respond. My heart pounds in my chest and my breathing picks up. For the first time in a while, these feelings are associated with pleasure and not panic.

Bella in scrubs and a pony tail is beautiful, Bella in a skirt with her hair down is fucking magnificent.

She walks up to me and hugs me. "Edward," she whispers, as her sweet breath washes over me.

I have never been this close to her before. Every other hug we shared was when I was seated, and she leaned over for a quick embrace. Then, her arms and maybe a shoulder were the only part of her body touching mine. Now, her entire body molds to mine perfectly.

I don't want to let go.

Should friends feel this good? Should it seem like she was made for only me to hold?

She's so soft and warm…and perfect. I breathe deeply; her scent is drawing me in further.

Is this wrong?

I decide that I want this right now, and I justify to myself that it's not a crime to feel good, if only for a few seconds. I let myself go for the moment and stop second guessing everything.

She's so small within my arms, yet she fills my senses completely.

I move one arm down toward her lower back and bring her in tightly to my body. I want to feel her body completely flush with mine.

My mind stops functioning rationally and suddenly I can't seem to get close enough.

I can't help but want more. She is so exquisite. I want to run my hands over every inch of her body following close by with my tongue and taste how sweet I know she must be.

I think I have already exceeded the imaginary allotted time frame that a friendly hug should last, and I have to stop now or she'll really notice how happy I am to see her.

Will she be able to tell my thoughts were inappropriate?

What happened to my resolve from just a little while ago, that she's just my friend?

God damn penis, now he's noticed the girl in my arms. It's been a long time since anything felt this good—that's what happened to my resolve.

I pull away my upper body slightly to look into her eyes. In that moment I don't see confusion or trepidation. Her head tilts slightly to the side and her eyes move from my lips to my eyes and back again.

My heart rate and breathing redouble their efforts in response to the realization that she's going to kiss me. I know there is no way in hell she doesn't feel another part of me respond as well, as she moves her body against mine.

She leans forward to touch her lips to mine; I close my eyes and move my head to the side in acceptance. The momentary anticipation of her kiss is overwhelming.

Unexpectedly, she tenses up and moves away from me, breaking our connection altogether.

And suddenly, it's as if someone threw ice water down my pants.

Uhhhmm, what just happened here? Did I just imagine that? Did I just read that entirely wrong?

She must sense my confusion. She clears her throat before speaking. "You seem eager to go home. Almost a free man. It's a perfect day for a homecoming." Either she can shift gears quickly, or I almost made a fool of myself thinking she was going to kiss me.

She is so cool under fire, I almost expect her to continue talking about the weather. It must have all been my imagination.

She doesn't seem upset with me. Maybe she didn't notice anything inappropriate. Somehow, I think it is insane to think my hard-on pressed against her midriff was unassuming, but it's all I can hang on to at this point. Other than seventeen year old boys and perverts, who gets aroused so quickly by just a hug anyway? She must have thought it was her imagination.

It seems like this sudden change in mood is an obvious attempt to distance us from what just happened. Or maybe I imagined the whole thing, and my desire began painting a picture in my mind that did not mesh with reality. It happened only moments ago, and now I don't even know if it was real. God damn, I'm so confused.

What was I thinking? She. Is. My. Friend. Nothing more.

I don't think a coward like me could ever be good enough for Bella anyway. I would ruin all that is admirable about her. She's perfection; I'm damaged.

We manage to do the whole friends thing really well, so we fall right into our groove after I shake the lustful, selfish feelings from my mind.

She begins telling me how she saw my mom and dad yesterday and how happy they are about my progress. Her words are barely registering with me as I find it hard to focus on what she's saying.

My mind is still stuck on that hug and the near kiss. I must have imagined it, otherwise she would be just as flustered as I am, but not one of her feathers seems the slightest bit ruffled.

She goes on and on and I can do nothing but nod and smile, hopefully at the appropriate intervals. My mind is too preoccupied with the ramifications of what I almost did; I almost kissed her. I almost ruined everything that we are together in a moment of confusion and wishful thinking.

I cannot jeopardize what we have just to satisfy something within me that can never be sated by someone as pure and good as Bella. Well, I'm sure she would be quite capable of satisfying me, but she's too special for me to objectify in that way. That's for girls with lower standards.

I hear Bella ask, "Edward, are you okay? You look, uhm, distracted."

I play along and pretend like my mind is not racing from one extreme to the next. I respond, "Yeah, I'm good. I'm just a little anxious and can't wait to go home already." I begin slowly walking toward my room while continuing the conversation.

"By the way do you know what Alice is doing to my house? She said something about fixing it up for me when I was talking to her on the phone yesterday, but when I asked what she was doing, she said she had to go and then hung up on me. I hope she knows I don't need a ramp or anything. But, I just remembered, I needed to do laundry before the fire. I hope she got around to that AND separated my colors from my whites." In my mind, I pat myself on the back for managing to string more than one sentence together and effectively divert the topic.

Bella giggles at me. "I'm not sure what she has up her sleeve. I haven't been to your house yet, but I know she's been busy there since yesterday. I know she and your mom emptied out your fridge a while ago. Maybe she's restocking it today."

I didn't even think about that. "That would be awesome. One less thing for me to do tomorrow."

She chimes in and says, "I heard that you have an appointment with Dr. Caius tomorrow."

"Yeah, ten o'clock. My dad says we are going to talk about going back to work. Emmett and a few other guys from the department came up to visit me pretty often and kept me informed about what's been going on there. Honestly, I can't wait to get back.

"The Chief came up a couple times too, and I want to let him know what the plan is as soon as I can.

"I'll be running out of benefit time soon and if Dr. Caius keeps me out much longer, I'll have to go on temporary disability. Between not being able to work my per-diem job and taking in less money if I go on disability, I'd have to start tightening my belt.

"I gotta get better soon. I got bills to pay and a little girl to raise."

The potential money problem that I may face soon has been on my mind more than I have been letting on. Mom and Dad started taking care of my finances as soon as I was able to tell them the passwords on my accounts, so at least I know my bills have been getting paid.

Due to my choice of careers, I'm not as well off as my parents, by far, or my sister, for that matter. But, I live within my means and have always managed to have decent stuff. That's good enough for me.

I was in college when my Granma Cullen died. She left Alice and me a decent amount of money. I paid off my student loans and put a sizable amount of money down on my first house, and eventually, a rental property.

With my parent's help I made a couple of good financial decisions and have never struggled financially.

With only one job's paycheck I can make ends meet, but with much less than that, it would get pretty tight. I may have to cut into my savings, which is something that I hope I don't have to do. That will be Kate's money when the time comes and I don't want to take anything from it.

Bella and I relax in the privacy of my room and are knee deep in conversation about a myriad of topics, when a couple hours later, I get a welcomed visitor; Dr. Molina. He's the man I have been waiting for to discharge me. I have officially reached the light at the end of that dark tunnel.

After about fifteen minutes of hugging the staff and nearly crying during the final good-bye, I'm a free man. A free man who seriously needs to relocate his man card again with all the crying and carrying on he has been doing lately, but free nevertheless.

The first few minutes of our ride home in Bella's old red pickup is spent with Bella asking about the staff that I just said goodbye to. She mentioned that one nurse in particular, Charlotte, seemed very friendly. She looks irritated, and if I didn't know any better, it would seem that Bella's a bit jealous. I smile inside and wish that could somehow be true.

Charlotte flirted with me relentlessly almost from day one of my stay at rehab. She was an older woman but still very pretty.

After her hug goodbye, she let me know that when I felt up to it, I should give her a call, and we could go out for drinks. She hugged me for an excessively long time. Strangely enough, it didn't feel the same to me as Bella's hug did earlier. Junior didn't so much as twitch; it was like hugging a relative. Charlotte whispered in my ear that I looked really good, kissed both my cheeks, and typed her number into my phone.

I was a bit taken aback that she was doing this in front of Bella.

While driving, Bella let me know that Charlotte wanted to get into my pants. I tried to hold in a chuckle. As if I needed Bella to translate for me an invitation for a night of no strings attached sex.

I'm smiling, and with a good amount of sarcasm that I hope is coming through, I say, "Bella, I'm a pretty charming guy. Maybe she wants to be friends with me. Maybe her intentions are more virtuous than you're giving her credit for. I made friends with you, haven't I?"

This is the first time I have ever seen Bella get angry. Her brow is furrowed, her face is turning red and she begins stuttering. I guess she didn't pick up on the sarcasm. She starts on a tirade saying that I'm being an ass and that Charlotte was completely unprofessional and she had half a mind to call her supervisor to report her. Perhaps I shouldn't have rattled her cage about this.

I was quick to apologize. I showed her as I deleted Charlotte's number from my phone, reassuring her that I was never going to pursue the offer.

The gears begin turning in my mind, and I decide I'm going to turn this into a lead-in for my plan to talk to her about her personal life.

I started, "You're right. She was incredibly rude. For all she knew, you could have been my girlfriend."

Bella sighs, her voice is calmer than it was just minutes ago. "That's not the point. For her to make a pass at you while she's at work and before you're even out the door is simply classless."

I agreed, "Absolutely, but, at the same time, she didn't know that I'm not currently in a committed relationship. It seems a detail such as that probably wouldn't matter to her."

At least, for now, I was able to confirm out loud that I was single.

I wait for her to stop grumbling about the differences between nurses who take their jobs seriously and those who don't. She's pretty passionate about this topic so it takes a while. I just sit, listen and nod where appropriate.

This isn't working the way I had planned so I'm just going to come right out and ask. After a lull in her condemnation, I have my opportunity, "You know Bella, I was thinking, we know each other pretty well but I don't even know your boyfriend's name."

Well, that sounded ten times better in my mind than it did out loud.

She snaps her head toward me, looking a bit pale and wide-eyed. She seems to lose her composure for a second but she gains it back and coolly says, "What makes you think I have a boyfriend?"

I'm silent for a long time. The reasons I deduced earlier seemed so concrete in my mind at the time, but now, as I'm trying to think of a way to explain that to Bella, it would sound more like I'm obsessing over her. Any other explanation I could come up with would seem like a pick-up line. I would be doomed if I answered that question in any other way other than to just ask another question.

So I lob the ball back into her court.

"Uhhhhmmm, well, uh, I don't know, I just…well, don't you?"

Oh yeah, that was smooth. God I suck.

"No, I don't have a boyfriend." I watch her as she is speaking and she closes her eyes for just a second, takes a deep breath and continues, "I am in a relationship, though." Her focus is back on the road in front of us.

Now I'm confused. She doesn't have a boyfriend, but she is in a relationship? What? Is she a swinger? What the hell does that mean?

I had to ask for clarification, "I don't understand."

"I have a girlfriend, Edward."

I involuntarily cough once.

Unfortunately this immediately progresses into an all-out coughing fit.

Stupid damaged lungs.

Bella's turning her head frequently, looking at me worriedly and repeatedly asking if I'm okay.

Jeez, that was painful as well as embarrassing. She could have eased me into that.

Holy hell. A girlfriend. She's gay! I didn't see that one coming.

I could tell my face is flushed, my eyes are tearing from the irritation. I pathetically overcompensate for my humiliating outburst and as soon as I could catch my breath, I merely say, "Yeah, uhm, that's cool."

My voice sounds like I just slammed back half a glass of grain alcohol. God! I'm so fucking lame.

My mind is reeling and after that last statement, and I hope in vain it sounded better on her ears than it did coming from my mouth. I try again to play it cool. "So, uh, then, what is your girlfriend's name? Tell me all about her."

Bella smiles as she looks at me, seemingly relieved. Now I realize what Alice was trying to tell me. Bella thinks that I would disapprove of her because she's gay. I come to the realization in a split second that she just made my life infinitely easier. With Bella no longer being a temptation, I can focus on our friendship, something I never wanted to ruin in the first place.

Wow, I feel as if a huge weight has just been lifted off my shoulders. I can't mess this up; she's not even into guys. Wow, I really read that whole hug incident wrong before.

I'm such an ass.

But damn, Bella is into women. That is fucking hot.

Alright, stop, Cullen. Right now. Have some God damn shame. I must never, ever, think about Bella that way in her presence.

She sounds a bit tense when she speaks. "Her name is Jessica and we've been seeing each other for over six months. She's an English teacher at the high school in town. We met at a town fundraiser and blood drive for a local family who's youngest child needs a heart transplant."

That was a succinct description. I need to know more.

"So when will I get a chance to meet her?"

Bella looks surprised, "You want to meet Jessica?"

I reply, "Sure, she's an important part of your life, of course I do. What time does she get off work, three-thirty? Four? Have her come over my house today."

She seems nervous. "Well, I'm not sure when she can make it out to your house or anything. Between her work hours and mine it probably will be a while before that happens. Plus, I don't know if she would be able to make it out because she's always grading papers or something, you know. Today is usually the day she has all her meetings. Yeah, she has meetings today until really late."

Flustered much? I call bullshit. I get the distinct impression I should tread lightly—but I don't want to.

I lose the kid gloves and come out swinging, "You know what I think? I think you don't want her to meet me."

Her face is red again. "Well, I cannot be held responsible for what you think Edward. The fact is, between the two of our schedules, we don't even get to spend much time together alone, so getting together with you would be even more difficult."

She's feisty, but I don't back down. "Well, there is no school on weekends, so have her come down on Saturday or Sunday even. We'll have dinner."

"Why are you pushing this Edward?" A plea sounds in her voice. Actually it's bordering on a whine.

I'm a bit put off by her question. "I wasn't aware that I was pushing anything. I just want to meet your girlfriend, that's all."

Something snaps and her defensiveness gives way. "You're right, okay? I don't want you to meet her, alright? Our relationship has been on thin ice lately and she's a very jealous person. She wouldn't understand our friendship. She's met Alice and she knows I was Alice's brother's nurse, but otherwise, she doesn't know anything about you."

I don't understand. "This doesn't sound good."

Suddenly I feel nervous and I feel compelled to say what's on my mind, "Bella, listen, I don't want to lose your friendship and this is the fastest way to do just that. It is never a good idea to keep a secret like this. It could wind up blowing up in your face. You're not doing anything wrong, but if you keep us a secret, it may seem that way. Then she'll have a good reason to put a stop to our friendship altogether."

"I would never let that happen." She sounds confident in her claim but I'm not buying it.

"How could you stop it? It could easily spiral out of your control and before you know it, she could have you choosing between your relationship with her and your friendship with me. I'll be the loser in that scenario, Bella. I don't want that to happen."

She pauses momentarily as if to carefully weigh her words, "What makes you think if she gave me that ultimatum, that I would choose her over you?"

Her question knocks me off balance, but I will not be easily pacified. "Bella, I appreciate the sentiment, but we both know that I'm the one that's more disposable in your life. With our friendship as your dirty little secret, even though it really has no reason to be one in the first place, it could easily become a burden to you, something that would cause you a fair amount of grief if it were exposed. Therefore, it wouldn't take long before it became too labor intensive and not worth continuing.

"I'd understand you choosing her over me if it came to that, but I can't help but think if you're honest about us now, and explain to her how she truly has nothing to fear in me, then all those issues would be mitigated. Hell, I'll help you. I can assure her that I would never look at you as anyone except my friend. If you want, I could pretend that I was gay...Wait. No. No. That will never work. I couldn't do that. Not even for you."

She laughs for the first time since we were back at rehab. "Let me think about this, okay? I understand your point of view, but you don't seem to realize how much I value our relationship. You completely underestimate me. But maybe you're right. Maybe my relationship with Jessica needs this test. Maybe it can happen this weekend. Anyway, she has to realize that I need to have human contact outside of her and work.

"What's funny about this whole situation is that a woman that Jessica calls her 'best friend' is gay and just so happens to be her ex-girlfriend. Apparently, I'm supposed to be okay with this. They go out together once in a while. Last night she didn't come home after being out all night with her best friend, slash, ex-girlfriend. Again, she's expecting me to be okay with this. I give her a foot and she takes a mile."

It seems that there is trouble in paradise. I don't think I like this Jessica person already, and I've not even met her. I don't know what to say other than the typical platitude. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"The worst part is, I know if I have a platonic friendship with you, a guy who doesn't have even the first inkling of a romantic interest in me, I know I'll get the third degree. Not to mention the hatred she will have for you long before she even knows anything about you, solely because of her jealousy over our friendship."

There's a look of discomfort in her eyes when she talks about Jessica, and call me silly but I don't think their relationship is thriving right now. "I have to say, so far, you are not painting a very flattering picture of the lady that you choose to share your life with. But since you care about her, I'll put aside any negative feelings and welcome her into my home, and to a lesser extent, into my life. Especially if it means that I'll be able to talk to you and see you whenever I can. And believe me, Swan, when it comes to you, I can't get enough."

Bella smiles brightly at me, and I feel like everything will be okay.

**A/N: Thank you for reading and reviewing.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Thank you to all who are reading and reviewing. I'm learning so much from so many, so thanks for being patient while I practice on you.**

**Mistakes are mine because I can't leave well enough alone, and it's never well enough. **

**kitchmill is my awesome beta and mentor. **

**To write is human. To edit, divine. Steven King**

Chapter 8

Bella

Today is supposed to be a happy day, the day that Edward finally gets to go home to have a second chance at life. I have the task of delivering him to that new beginning, and the irony of it all is not lost on me.

Over this past month, I have finally gotten to know the man that his family described. Many times while he was still in the ICU, they shared their memories of Edward with me, as he was fighting so hard to make it through to the next day without any further setbacks. Many times, his family found themselves suddenly praying that they would all be given the blessed opportunity to create new memories together. Unfortunately, there were instances where that possibility seemed doubtful. That time of uncertainty and grief had taken its toll, but today, Edward, as well as his family, are healed. Having been through so much of this journey along-side them, I can truly say that seeing the sparkle return to Edward's eyes has been a relief for me as well.

Now he's getting stronger each day and he is just as handsome as the man in the pictures in his family albums, just a bit thinner. It seems that teetering on the brink of life and death did not affect his good looks. If anything, he's even more attractive for it all.

But, so much for that happy day. I'm finding out that I should have stayed in bed. Nothing seems to be going well for me at all.

I woke up to find out I had a voice mail from a very drunk Jessica saying that she was calling in sick to work today and she would see me later. Apparently, she tied one on a little too tight with Sam last night.

It's clear to me that our relationship is in danger of collapsing at any moment, and I don't have the strength or ambition to reinforce it. Jessica chose to go out with Samantha last night after trying to make me believe that they made those plans weeks ago, and I knew about it. There were no plans. Well, at least not ones made privy to me.

I'm starting to believe that I'm being two-timed. Other than the anger I feel because they both believe that I'm such a fool that I don't realize this, I don't even care. Samantha can have her. I'm emotionally unavailable for this battle.

In the car, I call Jessica's home number where there is no answer. I call her cell and just before going to voicemail she answers. She sounds as if she just got hit by a truck. I ask where she is and what is going on, and she plays dumb. After a minute or two, seemingly reconsidering her approach, her feigned stupidity is quickly replaced by anger. She states that she is too hung over and it is too early to subject herself to my insecurities.

MY insecurities? The nerve! I hang up on her and maybe if I'm lucky she will just go away. I don't even care.

By the time I get to Edward's rehab, I have shaken off the misgivings of my relationship with Jessica, deciding to let the chips fall where they may.

I'm anxious to see Edward and bring him home for good. There's a precision in each move I make that brings me one step closer to him.

The elevator ride to the sixth floor heightens my anticipation as it frustratingly stops on each floor to disseminate people throughout the building. I'm almost bouncing where I stand when I hear the chime, indicating it is now my turn to depart.

As the doors part, I see him standing in the hallway only a short distance away, and the warmth that I usually feel for Edward transforms into a full out inferno.

Emotions overwhelm me. He looks amazing. Strong. Virile. Healed. I quickly walk over and embrace him tightly for fear that he is just an illusion, someone my mind fabricated to step into my life at the perfect time to give me hope that all the struggles in life are worth it.

He is real, he is warm, he is strong and I have never felt safer in someone's arms before. These feelings were in danger of spilling over, more so than they have already.

Moments later, almost as if he feels something similar, he moves his arm lower down my back and presses me up against him tighter. I could feel a surge of adrenaline combined with desire, something I have been successful at keeping in check until this moment.

I'm not sure how it's happening, because there is no conscious effort put forth on my part. It seems my actions are on autopilot. And I'll be damned, but my actions are determined to kiss him. I close my eyes one final time after looking into his. The last image I see is his green eyes widening slightly beneath a raised brow.

I'm well on my way to closing the distance, merely millimeters from his lips when the gravity of what I'm about to do sinks in. The confusion on his face when my eyes met his only a moment ago registers in the nick of time. It brings me crashing back to reality.

I almost kissed him. What was I thinking?

I would have been no better than Jessica.

If his confusion hadn't stopped me, my day would have been completely ruined and most likely, so would our friendship. I'm not ready to lose him yet. If the way I'm feeling lately is any indication, I don't think I'll ever be ready to say goodbye.

I need to stop being selfish and start being grateful that Edward chooses to have me share any part of his life. The only thing we should ever be is friends. After all, officially, I still have a girlfriend. But honestly, I have never been as confused about my sexuality as I am in this moment.

Any lustful responses I have ever felt, elicited by anyone I have ever been with, have been lukewarm at best. Jessica seemed to be one of the few lovers I actually enjoyed being with sexually. Maybe that's why I've stuck around her as long as I have. But how is it that I'm so easily overrun with hormones at the slightest touch from Edward?

Just seeing him stirs feelings in me that I've never felt before, and they certainly should not be happening to someone already involved in a committed relationship; at least it's still committed on my end.

Even if I wasn't with Jessica, Edward is out of my league anyway. I'm sure he could have any woman he wants; even the nurses at rehab give him that extra attention. I've seen them flirt with him mercilessly, and even though he seems oblivious to their charms in my presence, I'm sure all he would have to do is say the word and once he was out of rehab, their panties would drop in a second. How could I compete with that?

I wouldn't have the self-esteem for that kind of relationship. Being friends is our only option.

The biggest reason to stay away from Edward is that I don't want a relationship with a man anyway. Sure, they're great when they haven't staked their claim on you yet, but after you agree to be their girlfriend, I have found them to be nothing but controlling and manipulative. Not to mention, untrustworthy and selfish, especially when it comes to sex.

I recover from the hug and almost-kiss as if nothing ever happened, but it seems my little slip may not have fooled Edward. I sweep it under the rug and hopefully, eventually, he will forget all about it.

Edward is discharged a bit early and it's finally time for him to leave his hospital days behind him, but not before some slutty old nurse decides to rub herself all over Edward and shamelessly asks him out for drinks. She takes his cell phone and put her number in it, right there, in the hall way, where she works! Who does that?

Of course, Edward finds this amusing and not the least bit cliché.

Nurses like her are why they still make those naughty nurse costumes for Halloween and why TV shows use this stereotype so frequently. It's ridiculous, especially since male nurses are now commonplace, especially in critical care areas. But why attempt to educate people and ruin some crude male fantasy when there are still slutty nurses to reinforce this pattern of behavior?

I'm livid.

We manage to leave without me blowing a gasket—barely.

I take a deep breath as I prepare to drive him home. I never would have guessed that hopping up on my soapbox to vent my aggravation about Charlotte, the slut-nurse, would be the easiest part of the conversation we had during our journey.

Being myself around Edward is effortless, except for the part of me that I have walled off from him. Now, while I'm trapped in a confined space with him for the next hour, he tries to tear down this wall. Honestly, I think it's how he planned it.

I knew I couldn't keep it from him much longer, so I decide to just come clean and tell him what I have been so frightened to say—I have a girlfriend.

Although Alice told me to just tell him the truth weeks ago, that he would never judge me because of that, I couldn't bring myself to do it. It never really came up in conversation. He never asked, I never told. I can never be sure how anyone will react to this bit of information. For some, it is a deal breaker.

Jessica has told me horror stories about some of the problems she has encountered because she is gay and has known this all her life. Unlike me, she never dated a guy. I guess I have been lucky so far and haven't run into any problems. I hope I'm not pushing my luck with Edward.

Aside from a brief choking spree as I spring my sexual predilections upon him, Edward doesn't seem fazed. In a way I almost hoped he would be disappointed, but his obvious lack of disappointment justifies that Edward never saw me as anything but a friend after all.

If anything, he looks relieved. I imagine his relief is because he thinks that the pathetic way I threw myself at him earlier was just his mind playing tricks on him, and that no more of that Tom-foolery will be going on again.

On top of him gaining this insight into my life that I intended to keep locked away for as long as possible, he's all but insisting on meeting Jessica, today for God's sake. He just has no idea what a bad idea that is, especially today.

I try to explain this all to him and wind up conceding to his demands. He gives a valid argument and he seems genuinely troubled that Jessica could forbid me to see Edward if she found out I was keeping his friendship a secret from her, so I acquiesce to a meeting to be scheduled for some time in the future.

Like clockwork my cell phone rings; speak of the devil and the devil shall appear.

I look at the screen but already know who it is.

I contemplate silencing it when Edward says, "It's Jessica, isn't it? Answer the phone Bella. Please. You don't have to tell her now, but please, don't do anything to raise her suspicions."

There is an anxious look in his eyes. I cannot say no to him. "Hello, Jessica."

I'm on the hands-free speaker and I'm a little embarrassed at where this conversation may potentially go, but I realize I now have nothing to hide from him, so I'll listen to what she has to say. We both will.

"Look, Bella, I wanted to apologize for the way I spoke to you this morning. I was wrong. I'm sorry. I got carried away last night and was dealing with an awful headache when you called. Either way, it doesn't excuse the way I spoke to you.

"I want to make it up to you. Let's go to dinner tonight, how about Bella Italia? Or better yet, I'll cook for you. Well—you know I don't really cook, but I'll order in anything you want.

"Please forgive me?"

I've never heard Jessica so remorseful before and I'm caught a bit off guard. "Honestly, Jess, the fact that you were a bitch this morning is not my biggest concern here. You have to realize, from my point of view, the romantic relationship you had with your ex-girlfriend doesn't seem to be over. You're with her more than you're with me."

"Come on Bella, you know I wouldn't do that to you. Please don't be jealous. She is just my friend. You know that. Please, please, forgive me."

Although she is probably lying through her teeth, I don't care, so with all the understanding my voice can muster I acknowledge her. "Okay, Jess."

"Okay? Okay? Okay! Thank you Bella, I love you, you don't have to say it back, but just know that I will be here for you when you finally realize that you love me too. Thank you for forgiving me, it will never happen again."

"So, you will never go out with Samantha again? Is that what you mean?"

I did that on purpose, already knowing her answer.

"Bellaaaaaaah! You know what I meant. I meant that I'll never disrespect you that way again. I love you. Please, Bella, Sam is just a friend."

"Okay, so if Sam is just your friend—a friend that at one point, you lived with and wanted to spend the rest of your life with, but nevertheless, one you can go out with anytime you desire—why do you give me such a hard time about any friends I might have?"

"Like who, Bella? Huh? Angela? I don't like her. She seems too friendly with you."

One mention of my friends and her attitude turns on a dime.

"Oh, for the love of all that's holy! Angela is madly in love with, and engaged to, Ben! Remember, she asked me to be in her wedding? Angela is a good person and there is no reason whatsoever that you should give me a hard time when I go out with her!"

"Alright! Alright, Angela is fine, but don't tell me you want to hang out with that Alice woman. She is trouble, I just know it. She looks at me funny, I don't like it."

Edward snickers softly and I hope it isn't audible over the speaker.

"Jessica, there is nothing wrong with Alice." My voice is dead; I just don't have much fight left in me for this.

"So you're friends with her now, too? I knew when you moved into that apartment that this would come back to haunt us."

Now, I'm frustrated again. My emotions are going wild. "What the hell is your problem with Alice?"

"I told you, I don't like the way she looks at me. It's like she is judging me."

"Don't even say anymore. Alice isn't judging you for your sexual orientation. She is my friend and she doesn't judge me, so why would she judge you?"

"Whatever, Bella, if you trust Alice more than you trust me than this relationship will always have problems."

I slap my hand on the steering wheel because there's the guilt. "You know Jess, whenever a discussion doesn't go the way you had hoped, you try to guilt me into seeing things your way and I'm tired of it. It's manipulative and juvenile."

"All I'm saying is you should take my feelings about this into account."

Now my anger is boiling over and I find myself yelling, "What about my feelings Jess? What about my feelings when you go out get drunk and spend the night with your ex-girlfriend? Oh, that's right—everything's okay with that because she's just a friend."

"Bella…"

"No. If I want to go out with my friends, get drunk and stay overnight you should afford me the same leeway as I do for you and Samantha, but you give me a hard time if I even talk to anyone on the phone.

"I don't even know if I can trust you anymore, and for all I know you are going behind my back to be with her. But I have never, ever given you any reason to not trust me. I've never slept around on my girlfriend. Can you say the same thing Jess?"

"Please, don't say that you don't trust me. Sam and I…"

I interrupt, "I know, I know you and Sam are only friends. I heard it a thousand times but that doesn't mean it is the truth."

"Don't be like this, I don't like it. I don't want to lose you…please."

She is now sobbing in the phone, pleading with me to forgive her, I try to continue on my rant but it's too hard. I don't want her to cry. I sigh heavily and continue, "All I'm asking you to do is just trust me please. And please stop giving me reasons not to trust you."

"Alright, I swear I will do better. Sam and I will make sure to include you if we have any plans; she is a really nice girl, honestly."

It's an invitation I'll never take up. The last thing I want to do is feel like a third wheel around Jess and Sam. No thanks.

I briefly take stock in this conversation and wonder why I'm not more upset with the probability that my girlfriend is cheating on me and I can't come up with any reason except I just don't care. This is worse than I thought. I should break it off with her right now.

I want it to end, but I can't do it over the phone. Even Jess deserves better than that.

Well at least I have a bargaining chip. With her acceptance of my friends, I decide now is the time to mention Edward. I take a chance that she will not go back and tell my boss about any of this. It could cause me some issues with trust at work, but I can deal with that later.

"Oh, I meant to tell you…you know Alice's brother, the guy that I was taking care of in the ICU?"

"Yeaaaaahhh?"

Christ, she sounds suspicious already.

"Well, he and I have grown pretty close over the past couple months and honestly, I just wanted to tell you that I would consider him to be my best friend."

"WHAT?!" she shouts.

I knew she wouldn't take this well, despite the conversation we had only moments ago.

I look over to Edward and his eyes are wide and looking around my car, anywhere but in my direction. He's probably searching for my better judgment.

She continues at a more reasonable volume but her words were still loud and fused with anger. "What do you mean you two have grown pretty close?

"For God's sake, how could you be so naive? He is your friend only until he can get into your pants and then he won't want anything to do with you! And you would probably let him!"

There was not a word for the rage that I feel at that moment. I take the phone off speaker and calmly pulled off the road and off to a service station to continue the conversation safely.

I look at Edward once we're parked. "I'm sorry about this. I'll be right back." He nods with his eyes still wide as I open the car door.

"Bella, where are you? Say something!"

When I am clear of the car, I begin pacing and calmly speak into the phone without raising my voice at all, in fact my voice was more like a whisper through clenched teeth, "How dare you! You have no right what so ever to say anything about Edward. You don't even know him. But what's worse is that you do know me. How could you say something like that about me?

"I thought that only a few minutes you ago said that you'd do better.

"Do you think so little of me that I could be manipulated by a man? I'm so sick of this. I just can't do this anymore, Jessica, I'm sorry."

I was hesitant to do this over the phone but at this point I'm so far from even caring about decorum.

I sit down in my car with the door open. I look over briefly at Edward who looks uncomfortable. I cover the phone and tell him I'm sorry for the delay and I will only be a few more minutes, but he shakes his head and waves his arms telling me to take as much time as I need.

"Bella, No! No! Wait! Please, I don't know why I say those things when I get angry and scared. I didn't mean it, please. Please don't leave me! You can be friends with Edward, just please be careful. He probably doesn't care that you are gay and will probably try to make a pass at you anyway. That's all I'm saying."

"You see Jess, this is what I'm talking about! You don't know the first thing about him yet you are sitting there passing judgment and you have never even met him."

"You told me he's a man, that's all I need to know."

"I know I'll never be able to convince you otherwise but not all men are like that. Edward is not like that."

"Well, then there must be something wrong with him then. Maybe he's gay. Any other man would find you desirable. The only other explanation is that he must not have a penis. You should know, you were his nurse," she says derisively.

I was curious if Edward could hear both sides of our conversation while I was off speaker, but now I know he can because he let out a grunt-like noise to signify his displeasure with Jessica's statement. He then held out his hand and raised his chin, signaling for my phone. My eyes widen and I shake my head rapidly from side to side.

Jesus H. Christ! As if I would allow that conversation to take place! Is he out of his mind?! Has everyone gone completely crazy today?

"Look, I'm pretty busy right now, and we'll have to continue this discussion at a different time."

"What about dinner then? What time will you be over?"

"I'm not coming over tonight, Jess. I have plans."

"But, we were going to have dinner together. Please, it's been over a week since we've been together. Please stay at my house with me tonight. I'm not above begging."

"I'm sorry, I don't know when I will free up, but I'll call and let you know. Have dinner without me."

"Wait, what are your plans for tonight? You didn't even tell me."

"Edward is coming home today and we are all having a little get together in celebration of his good health."

"I see. Well then, okay. Uhm, have a good time."

I have to hand it to her, she was really trying with that last statement. "Well, thank you, I will. And I will call you later to continue to discuss these issues."

"Alright, I'll be here. I'll do anything for us, I love you, baby, please never doubt that."

"Goodbye, Jessica."

I felt emotionally drained yet exhilarated at the same time. Jessica knows about Edward and is allowing me to be friends, well at least for now. I'm pretty sure that she might still has some fight left in her for that battle. All those weeks of sneaking around to see him because of Jessica's insecurities are over.

I don't know how much is left to salvage in mine and Jessica's relationship. I don't have the energy to think about that right now, but I have a feeling that our problems are far from solved.

I put the car back in gear and slip back out into the street.

Edward is the first to break the silence as I get back on the road to his house. "Uh, I'm sorry you had to go through that."

"Thanks, and I'm sorry that you had to hear it. Jessica has really managed to mess up my day up until now, but I promise, I'm not going to let it bother me anymore today. Okay?"

"Okay, but I would understand if you had to cut out early. I don't expect Alice will be doing anything extravagant, probably just some cake and what not. It's a Thursday afternoon, people have to work. But, can I just say one more thing?"

I'm a little nervous but give him the nod.

He takes a deep breath and continues, "I don't like the way she's treating you. She's not good enough for you."

I attempt to reply but he cuts me off. "I'm sorry, and I know it's none of my business to an extent, but since, like you told Jessica, I am your best friend, I just needed to let you know what's on my mind. Any good friend would.

"I want to let you know that if you need someone to talk to, someone to just listen, I'll be there for you, any time, day or night. I mean it."

I want to hug him. Unfortunately, I'm driving and I should scale back with the hugs anyway. He has no idea how just that small gesture of assistance means the world to me. It has been so long since I could talk to anyone, truly confide in anyone.

Alice has been great and we have had numerous girl talks, but I always want to paint a picture of a happy Bella and Jessica because I still have a feeling that at one point she thought that Edward and I would make a good couple. Now I feel like I have to save face.

If I sit down and think about it, Edward and I should never be more than friends. We wouldn't make a good couple. That's something I don't want anyway. But what I do finally have is a friend that I can trust and confide in. I can't jeopardize that with confused, lustful feelings that are here one moment and gone the next. Alice is wrong.

"Thank you so much, Edward. That means a lot to me. I've been bottling up my problems with Jessica for a while now. I just had no one to talk to about them. I know I'll take you up on that offer sooner rather than later, but definitely not today. I want to put that conversation behind me and be grateful for what an amazing day this is.

"You are going home! Nothing should spoil that."

He's smiling again. "Alright, just one more thing and I'll shut up about it, I promise. I just wish there was something I could do for you to fix this other than just listen to you talk. If there is, please let me know. I want you to be happy. You deserve only the best, Bella, and I hope you know that. As far as I'm concerned, I think Jessica is a fool for treating you this way.

"You are one of the kindest, most caring, and amazing people I have ever met. You deserve nothing less than her worship.

"She doesn't realize how fortunate she is that you have let her into your life in such an important capacity. She's taking you for granted. I hope she comes to her senses soon."

"Oh, Edward. You can certainly make a girl feel special. Thank you. But right now I want to focus on you. This is your day and I'm sorry that I took that much time away from you and you had to witness that drama. Next time, I'm not answering the phone. Deal?"

"Deal. So, while I'm not the birthday boy, I'm the next best thing. So, do you think I'll get to make a wish if there are candles on my cake?"

"Edward, there are no candles on a 'welcome home' cake. You get to be a birthday boy every year. Not too many people cheat death so spectacularly like you did, so that makes you even more special than the birthday boy, silly!"

"Even more of a reason why there should be candles." He sounded like he was seven years old.

"Okay, if you have a candle in your house, we can put it on the cake so you can make a wish. Is that all right?" Now I was talking to him like he was seven.

"That's perfect," he responded with a smile and a big nod.

"So what would you wish for?"

"I don't know...well that's not true. I do know, buuut...I shouldn't tell you. If I tell you, maybe it won't come true," he says, teasingly.

Definitely, still seven.

Since I can't argue with the logic of a seven-year-old, he continues. "But I guess I will tell you because you're my best friend…oh, and don't tell Emmett I said that. He's now my best guy-friend, and you're my best girl-friend…uh…I mean friend-friend."

I can't help but giggle at his charm; he doesn't even have to try. It's just intrinsic.

"Soooo…I'm gonna make a wish that my best friend-friend Bella–who deserves every happiness—is able to find that soon."

Emotions get the better of me and tears well-up in my eyes, but don't quite spill over. "Thank you, Edward. You have no idea how much that means to me."

Twenty minutes later—around three p.m.—Edward directs me to the driveway of his home, where, there is one spot saved for us. Guests' cars line the road where normally, street parking is only allowed for just such an event.

Edward lives in a nice neighborhood, not pretentious, but solidly upper-middle class. It is not too far from my new apartment.

A large "Welcome Home Edward" sign decorates the yard along with Alice, Jasper, Jane, Kate, Esme Carlisle, Tanya, Rose, Emmett and his neighbors the Banners from the house next door and about twelve or so guys and a few of their guests from the firehouse and medevac. Everyone is wearing a welcome home Edward T-shirt with the date. It's certainly a lot more people than either Edward or I expected for a Thursday afternoon.

His house sits on about two level acres with well-manicured, landscaped grounds. It is a four bedroom, three bath bi-level with a roof that over hangs the front of the house with a few columns for support. A large dormer sits over the carved wood front door and ornate rectangular windows along either side of the door, make up the entry way.

We walk around to the back of the house where all the festivities will be held. There is a large patio that is partially covered by the deck on the upper level of the house that wraps around one side. Outdoor furniture appoints both areas, with extra stackable chairs for all the guests today. A large stone outdoor fireplace graces on the patio and the obligatory barbeque grill is on the deck. A landscaped in ground pool with the same stone that is used in the patio surrounds the pool and ties the yard together

Alice did a nice job with the decorations, lights and ribbons adorn the yard and make it seem even more inviting. There's one of those giant wedding tents set up in case of bad weather. Thunderstorms were predicted to roll through this afternoon, although the sun is shining brightly, not a cloud in the sky for miles. Hopefully it's a good omen that Edward's future is just as bright.

Despite all the commotion, Edward still finds time to give me the twenty-five cent tour after I asked where I could find the bathroom.

We walk into a sliding glass door from the patio into a finished basement which is where the bar and den are located. Edward's home is well appointed, much more so than I thought a single guy would do on his own. It is warm and homey, with browns and dark reds, wood, exposed wooden beams in the ceiling, and a large stonework fireplace both in the living room and the den. Through the French doors in his bedroom is the smaller wrap around portion of the deck that has a sunken eight-person hot tub with a seating arrangement to the side. Not bad for one occupant on a civil service income.

Most of the time a California king sized bed would take up a good part of a bedroom, but Edward's master bedroom is huge with a sofa and coffee table to the side near a walk in closet and en suite bath. Again, it is warm and inviting.

He has a chance to inspect the updates and changes that Alice and Esme seem to have made in his absence. It's the linens on his bed that he seems to have a problem with. They are seemingly a little less masculine than he would have chosen for himself, he complains about the flowers. Although I think it looks perfect in his bedroom, he is upset about the flowers on it, typical man.

It seems that when Alice did some cleaning and bought him this new set among other things. She also threw away his old sheets, mentioning something unsavory about DNA sampling and Quantico forensics.

After his obligatory complaining at the perceived blow to his masculinity, he is quick to thank Alice and Esme for their help in keeping his house in order while he was gone.

There is no doubt that he has a close knit family who would do anything for each other. It is something I'm a bit envious about, with me having a dead beat mom. The Cullens seem to sense this and have virtually adopted me into their family, like they had years earlier with Emmett and Jasper.

Each Sunday they have dinner at Esme and Carlisle's home, and for the past six weeks or so, I have had an invitation from Esme each time. I have only taken them up on their invitation once; it was this past Sunday when Jessica was busy with Sam.

Sunday dinner with the Cullens is apparently a long standing tradition started by Esme as soon as her children were old enough to leave home.

I had a lovely time, and my experience solidified my estimation of Esme as the matriarch of the family. Her love and caring nature is the glue that bonds her family together.

Sometimes due to Edward and Emmett's work schedule, they aren't able to make it to dinner every Sunday, but Alice, Jasper, Jane and Rosalie are fixtures. Also, almost every week Tanya lets Kate have dinner with her grandparents.

It seems that Tanya is a good mom to Kate and that she and Edward are able to get along and work well together, always with the best interest of their daughter in mind.

I just found out only a couple weeks ago from Alice that a woman named Victoria, not Tanya like I had assumed, is Edward's ex-wife. I guess there is a lot more for me to learn about Edward yet.

Tonight, we all feast on food that Alice, Esme and Rose cooked that includes sausage and peppers, baked ziti with meatballs, tortellini primavera, chicken franchese, mushroom risotto, shrimp scampi with rice, red potatoes with garlic butter, salads, vegetables like broccoli rabe, zucchini and white asparagus, garlic bread, Italian bread, cold cuts and buffalo wings.

It seems like a ridiculous amount of food, but while a lot of the guys from Edward's work are capable of enjoying a good meal, tonight Edward is a bottomless pit. I think he has actually eaten more than Emmett—if that is possible.

Sometimes it's the little things, like Edward's newfound appetite, that cause my mind to replay a day in the ICU where the doctors—especially Dr. Caius—thought that there was no longer any hope for him. It serves to remind me how far he's come.

No one must know this feeling as acutely as Carlisle though. I believe he's the only one in his family that knows just how close Edward came to death, how unlikely the odds were that he would survive and just how much of a miracle it is that he is with us all here now, perfectly intact.

I know he must have cautiously withheld this information from Esme. Each day he had to put on a brave face in front of his wife, while watching his worst nightmare unfold and thinking his son was almost certainly going to die; it must change a man.

Now, however, it's as if all their lives are reborn and it's so inspiring to see the love this family has for each other. As much as Edward and Alice tease and argue with each other, even now in their early thirties, there is no doubt how close they are.

Now it's time for desert and true to his word, Edward finds two candle sticks and shoves them unceremoniously in his cake, explaining to everyone that he needs to make a wish. So the lights are lowered as he tries to blow out the candles. He pretends that it's so difficult to do. He even throws in some dramatic coughing for good measure. Everyone laughs, and with a final easy puff of his breath, the flames flicker out, and his wish is cast to the gods of fate upon a wisp of smoke.

The party is a huge success. Everyone is laughing, eating, and drinking to their hearts' content. Edward spends most of his time with Kate and Kate seems just as reluctant to leave her dad's side.

Edward is starting to look tired just before nine o'clock, especially after a few beers that Emmett was pushing on him. The majority of guests have already said their goodbyes.

Everyone tells him that he should get some sleep. Alice assures him that everyone will make sure that the house is tidied up and locked before they leave. In fact, Esme and Carlisle are coming back early tomorrow so Carlisle can take Edward to see Dr. Caius in the morning. Esme has every intention to spoil her boys just a little more with a big breakfast of eggs over easy on top of hash brown potatoes with cheese, onions and peppers.

According to his family, Edward has always been a stickler for good nutrition but he seems to be letting his mom spoil him now while he can.

He walks me to my car before he retires for the night, with concern clear on face, "Will everything be okay tonight?"

I intentionally didn't tell him about the three text messages and four voicemails from Jessica that I haven't replied to yet. The tone of each was getting progressively more desperate. She will not be happy that my responses were only texts with the words "I will call you back in a little while" after each of her tearful messages.

This was his time with his family; it wasn't mine to insert my drama into what is otherwise a happy celebration. My awkward phone conversation in the car on the way home was more than enough for him to be exposed to for one day.

"Everything will be fine, I promise." It seems I may be getting better at this lying business because he seems to relax a bit when I say this.

"Will you call me in the afternoon? I have that appointment with Dr. Caius at ten but the rest of my day is free. Maybe we can do something if you aren't busy, plus I need someone to help me eat all those leftovers."

Spending another day with Edward sounds like a great idea. "I would love that, Edward. But between the way you and Emmett were putting it away earlier, I'm surprised there's any leftovers at all."

Edward smiles shyly and confesses, "You got me—there really isn't much food left. I just wanted an excuse for you to come over again."

He's such a charmer. I laugh and say, "You know, you had me at 'maybe we could do something,' before you even mentioned the food. I'll cook you dinner and we'll watch a sappy chick flick afterward with a pint of ice cream and two spoons. How does that sound?"

The smile on Edward's face rivals the crisp star filled night sky in its brilliance. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but that sounds great. I would prefer something like Transformers to some story about traveling pants and frozen yogurt instead of ice cream—especially after eating my twice my weight in pasta tonight, but beggars can't be choosers."

"You got it buddy." I hug him as we say goodnight and he waves as I drive away. The happiness that I felt radiating from Edward and his family tonight will sustain me as I make my way to deal with a situation that I have been dreading.

I drive my car towards Jessica's apartment.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: I guess I got the message by the reviews from last chapter. You all want Jess out. Trust me, it will happen…but not just yet.

Thank you kitchmill for being my awesome beta and congrats on Altered Measure being in the top 5 over at The Lemonade Stand!

Finally, thank you to anyone still reading and especially reviewing. I appreciate your perseverance during this learning process. This is all new to me, so I'm thankful for any support, it's very humbling. And I'm having a good time too.

Chapter 9

Edward

The same nightmare jars me out of sleep. I sit bolt upright, drenched in a cold sweat. Panic is spreading throughout my body like poison. It's hard for me to focus, hard to understand that I'm safe and under no threat. I feel as if my heart is going to explode within my constricted chest. My breathing is deep and rapid. I feel as if I was under water for far too long, nearly drowning, and now no amount of air seems to be enough. I try to remember what Dr. Cope taught me as I struggle to endure each moment. First I try to slow my breathing, but it is so hard when I feel as if I'm being suffocated.

My hands and face are starting to tingle; I know I'm hyperventilating. As the tingling is getting worse I feel what little control I had in the first place slipping, spiraling away from me rapidly.

Could someone die from fear? I try to reason with myself that this is only a panic attack, but the part of my mind causing this anxiety and the part of my mind trying to compartmentalize this reaction are not communicating. I'm lost. I need help. No, I need Bella…she can help me.

I'm broken. She can fix me.

Bella, I need Bella. If she were here, maybe she would hold me, tell me everything is alright, that it was just a dream and that I'm safe. The boy in the fire—Jared—he's dead, but I'm safe. Harry, he's dead, but I'm alive.

Yes, if Bella were here she would hold me, I know she would. I need her to hold me; in her arms I would feel her strength and courage. She gives me the inspiration and ability to find those qualities that I can no longer find within myself.

She's so strong, and I'm weak. I need her to hold me and tell me everything will be alright.

Through my internal rant, I realize that the restraints that sat heavily across my chest, confining each breath, have loosened their grip. The tingling in my hands and face are subsiding, and I find I can rationalize my way through this episode.

I put my feet down on the floor and carefully make my way to my bathroom where my medications are waiting. I put a Xanax in my shaking hand and realize that if I'm able to move to get the medication that I have pretty much worked my way through the worst of the attack and probably don't need a pill any longer. I refuse to medicate myself "just in case" and risk becoming addicted. The pill goes back into the container. I remember that I forgot to take the other medications Dr. Cope prescribed for me, anti-depressants, mood elevators, or whatever you want to call them, there is a whole cocktail of prescriptions that are supposed to straighten this shit out. She drilled the importance of taking my medications every day and to avoid, at all costs, abruptly discontinuing the medication. I never had to take medication before so this is all new to me. I take last night's dose now, at three a.m.; close enough. I go back to my bed.

Sleep eludes me. This episode was the worst I have yet encountered. I don't know what I could have done differently to avoid it, but I realize that thinking of Bella seemed to bring me back to reality. I realize she helped me and she isn't even here.

Well I'll be damned.

How can it be that such a petite little girl is the strongest person I know? Anyone can acquire physical strength to a degree. It's easy; go to a gym and work hard. But she shows such tenacity and emotional resilience and yet she's able to genuinely care and give so much of herself, most of the time, to a complete stranger. These qualities in a person are usually contradictory. She's nothing short of amazing.

Bella's my strength, she helped heal me physically, and without even knowing it, she's helping me heal emotionally as well. I couldn't be more fortunate that she's my friend. My heart swells with emotions and I realize how much I need her in my life.

Emmett has been my best friend for years, and in his own way, he helped me through some difficult times, especially with my marriage. But if I ever needed someone to talk to, I don't think he would be able to stop laughing at me long enough to take me seriously.

He has always been my go-out-and-get-drunk-with buddy, and I love him for it. Now, there are times when I feel so incredibly vulnerable, where any little thing could set off a panic attack, and I don't want Emmett to see me that weak. He would never ridicule me about things like that, but I don't want to seem like less of a man in front of him.

Bella has seen me at the lowest I have ever been, completely emasculated, after having to help me with things that every healthy person takes for granted. Most people would almost rather die than to need that kind of help, myself included. Yet now, I swear she looks at me like none of that ever happened, and instead, like I'm worthy of being in the presence of someone as amazing as she. How is that possible, when as far as I'm concerned, she's epitome of perfection?

No one is worthy of her, the sun rises and sets on that woman.

In less than a day—really it was almost instantaneous—I have come to grips with the fact that fate played the ultimate cruel joke on me.

Fate brought THE perfect woman into my life. It dangled her in front of me while I was sick, giving me even more reason to get better. Then, when I'm just about healthy again, fate snatches her away forever because she would never be interested in me as anything more than a friend because of her sexuality. How fair is that?

I realize though, what I lost in a romantic relationship, I gain in what will be a lifelong friendship. We have come so far so quickly, and at this point, I can never imagine Bella not being an important part of my life. I'm so grateful for that much, asking anything more of fate would be the ultimate in selfishness.

I look at the clock some time later and it's a little past four a.m. This time of morning is so quiet and peaceful, yet if you find yourself unwillingly awake, so very lonely. The darkness seems to stretch on endlessly, enveloping you completely as if there is no end in sight. I try not to dwell on the loneliness as I stare into the silent darkness without the soft cadence of another's breathing to guide my own.

My alarm startles me awake at seven o'clock. I don't remember how or when, but somehow I was relaxed enough to fall back asleep.

I know that my body is still healing and needs more sleep than I used to. That is the reason I'm a zombie if I'm still awake by ten p.m. Well, at least I don't fall asleep during the day anymore. For a while there I was taking at least two naps a day; I was starting to feel like a toddler again. So it's hard to believe, but I don't feel exhausted after the episode from last night.

In the light of the day, I can look back on it objectively. I was in no danger of any harm, yet the panic I felt upon awakening was as real as it can get. Why can't my mind tell the difference? What broke inside me that is causing this to happen? How can I fix it? Why am I so weak that this is even a problem? So many others have been through so much more and have brushed themselves off and persevered. It seems I just need to man-up a bit.

As I go into the shower, I do know that the only thing that made me feel better was thinking of Bella. Why does she have such a profound effect on me? No one, with the exception of my daughter, has caused me such an instantaneous and overwhelming surge of emotions. It is expected that a parent love his child beyond reason; it is love at first sight, it's instinctual. But Bella was a stranger to me less than a few months ago. How could I feel this way about someone who I'm just starting to know?

My mind is sidetracked momentarily because it feels so good to step inside my own shower. Rarely have I appreciated the hot water in this little spot in my house as much as I do right now. It is heaven.

My mind falls back to Bella. It seems like she is all I ever think about anymore.

Thank God, I won't ever sleep with her; even if the sex was run-of-the-mill at best, she would have me completely unglued.

Dear God, sex with Bella. Oh, the things I would do to her tight little body.

And—I'm instantly hard…

WAIT! NO!

I CANNOT think of her like that. It's rude and just plain creepy. I make a promise to myself that I'll not disrespect Bella by thinking of her while my body can't control itself. She deserves so much more admiration than be objectified like that.

It has been so long since I have felt a woman underneath me, on top of me, hell, anyway at all. It was quite embarrassing but during rehab, not only did I have night terrors, but I essentially reverted back to my teenage years and had wet dreams as well. It was crazy.

I didn't remember any part of the dreams that got me to that point, but I woke up as it was happening. My body wasn't strong enough for sex yet, but it could not be denied. It would get it one way or another, with or without my conscious effort.

I thought that one of the side effects of all these anti-depressant medications was a lower libido. Nope, it isn't working that way for me. Anyway, how could having less sex improve depression or elevate your mood? I never understood that.

My problem down below will not go away and there is no sin in relieving a little stress. I either need to slam my dick in the door a couple times or do something a lot more pleasurable. I choose option number two.

As I take myself in my hand for the first time in a REALLY long time, I can't help the moan that escapes my lips. Slowly I move my lathered hand up and down as the warm water slides down my body. The feeling compels me to move faster. I stop for a moment in an attempt to prolong the ecstasy and I can't help but imagine how many times better this could be if I were deep inside a beautiful woman who was clawing at my back, moaning in my ear and on the verge of screaming out my name.

A couple minutes later, I can no longer intentionally delay the peak of the pleasure coursing through me. I slam my fist over my cock harder and faster until my entire being is focused on this one feeling. The tightness of every muscle mounts just before I spiral into bliss. I move my hand gently with each spasm, two, three, Oh God, once more, and I'm spent.

My legs feel wobbly. Whoa, the room is spinning a bit. I guess it was better than I thought. It seems all my stress rinses down the drain along with everything else I have left behind.

I take a slow deep breath and I feel like a new man.

Boy, how I've missed that! I look forward to doing that again real soon, but I still feel a bit dizzy.

I must remember I have things to do and cannot sit home and masturbate all day. But damn, now that I can again, it is going to be difficult to think about doing anything else.

I was told that I have to "take it easy for a while" when it comes to any strenuous exercise, including sex. What the hell is that supposed to mean? Does that mean no swinging from a chandelier while fucking, or the next time I'm rubbing one out I shouldn't be standing up? You think they would give you more comprehensive instructions and not be so vague.

Maybe I could find a nice girl that would ask me to lie back so she could ride my cock for a while, that is, after I find out that she doesn't have a gag reflex. That wouldn't be strenuous at all. Hell, neither was the shower episode, but it made me so damn dizzy. I guess I'll give it a while to fully heal and regain my strength before I start looking for anything other than my own hand to scratch that itch.

I thought about this pretty extensively yesterday and came to the conclusion that I'm not interested in investing any effort into a romantic relationship. How many women would be happy if I told them my best friend is a woman, nevertheless a gorgeous one at that? Whether they know she is gay or not, I know they would give me a hard time. No piece of ass is worth losing my girl.

I can have Bella as my girl for everything except sex, and I can pick up random women whenever other needs arise. Well, since the need never really goes away, I should restrict pick-ups to once a week or so, or whenever my hand gets too tired.

About ten minutes later, after I'm dried and dressed, I come to the conclusion that I should not think about gag reflexes and lying naked under a beautiful woman. I look at the clock and try to do a bit of math to figure if I have enough time for round two, but my cell phone rings at that moment and my mother's voice is telling me that she and my Dad will be here in about twenty minutes. That is more than enough to eliminate any other thought I have about a repeat performance for the time being.

The parents arrive and Mom insists on cooking a large amounts of food, wanting to feed Dad and me within inches of our lives. My dad seems quiet and reserved. He must have woken up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.

After breakfast, Mom is taking the car to go to Alice's, where Jane is running a fever and staying home from school. Once she gets there Alice can get to her office for her morning appointments only a bit behind. Dad and I take my car and I'll drive him home after we get back from my appointment.

During our drive, Dad asks how I slept last night; he's aware of my nightmares. I'm honest about what happened and explain my concerns about the medication. He tells me that I have nothing to be ashamed of and understands my hesitation about taking the Xanax every night. Still, he insists that the other medication is necessary, at least for now, and I need to keep up with my regimen.

I know deep down inside he probably wishes that I just finished med school and became a doctor. He wouldn't have to see me through these problems if I had done what he wanted and just stayed on track. Maybe that's why he seems a bit off this morning.

Dr. Caius's office is not far from the hospital. After arriving and filling out the obligatory paperwork, it is not long before the nurse ushers us into an examination room. Dad is with me and I almost feel as if I'm a kid at the pediatrician's office again. The nurse does her preliminary exam with height weight and vital signs and we don't wait long before Dr. Caius comes in smiling and shaking hands.

I smile widely, thinking back on my first impression of him when I had woken up in the ICU and try to remember just how out of it I was back then. Luckily my memory of that day is very spotty. I'm still not very happy to find out about my latent flasher tendencies, which I don't remember doing at all. At the time, I thought that Emmett made up that story, but unfortunately Bella and Rose verified it. I also concluded not long after, that Dr. Caius is really a pretty decent guy and a great doctor who is highly respected in his field. He and my Dad have been acquainted through work for many years and now my dad feels indebted to him for saving my life.

He examines me and tells me what to expect from future visits, the first of which will be scheduled about a month from now. X-rays, pulmonary function tests, a possible bronchoscopy and a load of other things that he explains will probably be necessary. He tells me how important it is for me to try to stay healthy. If I get a cold, I should let him know and come in for a checkup right away. He tells me my lungs cannot fight off infections like they used to, and I could easily get bronchitis, which could rapidly develop into pneumonia. Great.

Oh, but there is more.

He says, very matter-of-factly, that one of the things that he will keep an eye on is the potential for cell mutation. I know immediately that's a nice way to say that he is concerned about me getting some form of cancer from my exposure to carcinogens from the smoke. This is something I never considered before, and it takes the wind out of my sails. My mind tries to envision the consequences and I feel sick with worry from something that, yet again, I have absolutely no control over.

He allows me to digest this for a while. Dad begins asking very clinical questions about types and prevalence while I sit there relegated to the fact that no matter what I do, I have very little say in the path fate has chosen for my life.

Dr. Caius is assuring us that since they will always be on the lookout for it, that if it is diagnosed, chances are excellent for not only remission but elimination. The problem with a lot of cancers is that they are insidious. They usually don't cause any problems for a long time. By the time an unusual occurrence is noted and the diagnosis of cancer is then made, it tends to be in advanced stages and much harder to successfully treat.

I feel somewhat better with this information and surprisingly not on the verge of panic.

He looks at my dad and then asks if I'm okay and want to go on. I'm a bit put off by this question. I feel a bit of anxiety clawing at me, ready to pounce. As if the potential for cancer is not bad enough, it seems as though he is saving the worst for last.

I look over at my dad who now has a visibly worried look on his face and I'm confused. He puts his hand on my shoulder as Dr. Caius begins to speak. "Edward, as you know, the injury you sustained to your lungs was very serious. In fact, it is one of the worst I've seen anyone survive. It is quite astounding that we are having this conversation at all."

He hesitates, takes a deep breath and looks at my dad again before continuing. "What I'm about to say is something that your dad and I discussed extensively and this decision was not taken lightly.

"As your doctor, I cannot allow you to go back to the fire department. The risk is too great that you could have some exposure to smoke again. Your lungs will take years to heal completely, if ever, and another smoke exposure, even a relatively small one, could be disastrous. I'm sorry."

I'm shocked by this statement. It feels as if I have been punched in the gut. I can't breathe. I look at my father who is apologizing to me along with Dr. Caius. His hand is still on my shoulder, and now it seems as if it is anchoring me to my seat.

I'm infuriated. My father never wanted me on the department in the first place, and now he has his buddies doing his bidding.

I shove his hand off me, compelled to stand while I speak my mind. My fists are at my side and ready to go. I'm reeling, disbelief and anger is pulsing through my mind.

Dr. Caius takes a step back and my father takes one forward—standing up to me. This makes me angrier. Since when did my father become a tough-guy?

I roar into my father's face, "NO! FUCK YOU! I'M GOING BACK TO WORK WHETHER YOU LIKE IT OR NOT!" My eyes are leering straight into his, attempting to pierce his facade. I know he has a hand in this.

"Edward, calm down. Stop this immediately. There is no reason to act like this," my father says. He is probably pissed because his loser, civil servant son is embarrassing him in front of his one of his cronies.

"Act like what Dad? Some low-life public service disappointment that dropped out of medical school that you still have to regretfully call your SON?"

My words attempt to cut him, make him admit his defeat in fathering the son he considers a failure.

He inhales sharply. There is a sadness to this features before he composes himself and puts his parenting façade back in place. "EDWARD. THAT. IS. ENOUGH!" The tone of authority is strong in his voice. I can't help but be taken aback slightly. Nevertheless, I won't back down.

"No Dad, it's not enough! Just so you know, I'm going back to work. I'm not ever going to medical school so don't even think about it. I'll always be an embarrassment to you. GET OVER IT!"

Rational thought is still not able to permeate my anger, but at least I'm no longer compelled to hit anything. I guess I'm feeling a bit sorry for myself too, which seems to be coming through in my petulance.

My father is having none of this, he grabs my shoulder and pushes me to the wall behind me, letting me know he means business and if I intend to hit him that I'd better do it now, or stand down.

His words begin through gritted teeth. "Now you listen to me. No matter what you may think, this decision is based on your health, not some perceived conspiracy that I'm going to force you into becoming someone who you don't want to be. You are a grown man, for God's sake, not a child, although you are certainly acting like one right now. The only thing I'm disappointed in you about is that you think so little of me that the only thing I want for my son is to be a doctor and that I would destroy your career to do it. I put that to bed a long time ago, Edward. Despite what you think, I'M PROUD OF YOU. I'm so FUCKING proud of you; I just wish you would believe me for once, God damn it!"

My father never curses.

Wisely, I stand down.

My shoulders slump, and I cannot look him in the eye. Most of the fight has left me, I feel defeated and devastated.

Dr. Caius, who has been silent and standing back throughout this little family drama, has decided to step up and reinforce what my father stated about his pride in his son. He tells me that after he discussed what his plans were, my dad was not happy about it and tried to have him concede and look for other solutions. He says my dad was well aware how important my job is and how much it means to me and that I'll be devastated at the news. He tells me that this was solely his decision, made with only my well-being in mind. He reiterates that he will not be able to sign me off to go back to work at the fire department and that I should look into an early disability retirement.

Fuck. I'll be financially destroyed. I cannot comprehend the long term ramifications of this decision that has been made for me.

Dr. Caius's voice brings me back from the brink of despair and he tells me that I would be able to go back to my other job as a flight paramedic, in the future, within a couple months, perhaps.

The last of the irrational behavior burns away, extinguished by the man I've never really been able to forgive for one deed, years ago, that redefined our relationship, and I'm finally listening to what the doctor is saying. Again, I'm ashamed of the way I behaved toward my father. Again, I over-reacted. I tried to push him to the same point he found himself years ago, so I can say to everyone, "I told you so." And, again, he came out on top.

I sit back down, lean over and my face falls into my hands. My father's hand is back on my shoulder. This time, as if it is tethering me to reality.

I let it begin to sink in. I need to look into retirement due to disability for my job at the firehouse, and I could go back to my job as a flight medic in the future.

Being a firefighter is the type of job that if a worker is unable to be a part of the team, there is not much in the way of light duty that would still fall under my job description. There are a number of non-firefighting job titles that work for the city within the department, but they are not firefighters. They are clerks, secretaries, mechanics, dispatchers, etc., each with its own job description and pay scale.

For firefighters that are injured to the point of being unable to perform within their job title, there is the ability to collect a portion of your salary and maintain medical benefits. It is a way to prevent you from obtaining a large sum of money from a workman's compensation lawsuit. They pay you a fraction of your salary, like an early retirement, and you go away.

In my case, due to the severity of my injuries, I'm sure the city would consider this a windfall for them that I wouldn't sue them with a compensation claim. Especially after finding out from Emmett that most of the hydrants in that part of the city were faulty and scheduled for repair for over a year, if not longer. In fact, three of the closest hydrants were inoperable at the time of the fire and the engine companies were having a hell of a time getting water on the building that the city should have condemned long before the fire even started.

My father takes Dr. Caius off to the side and apologizes for our heated disagreement.

Dr. Caius seems to brush it off like it happens all the time and shakes my dad's hand before coming back over to me.

"Edward, again I'm sorry that this is causing you so much grief. I know it is a shock, but please understand, while you are in my care, I'll do everything I can to get you better and keep you healthy. I hope, in time, you can understand the reason for my decision." He holds his hand out to me to shake it and I look at it for a moment, thinking this handshake will seal my fate. I stand up again, feeling like I could vomit and I weakly take his hand, unable to meet his eyes with mine.

My career is over.

My father takes my keys and drives himself home; no words are shared between us during the ride. I'm too overwhelmed to speak and still too stubborn to apologize. I look out the widow, staring at the scenery flying by without seeing any of it.

When we pull into the driveway of my childhood home, my father turns off the ignition and says, "Edward, come inside with me."

I feel like a little boy again, with my dad thinking of some punishment to dole out for my outrageous behavior. What will it be, a stern talking to, off to my room without dinner, no video games for a week? I silently leave the car and follow my father inside.

He asks if I want something to drink and I decline. He gets himself a double bourbon with ice. Oh boy, cursing twice and having a drink before noon; this is a banner day.

He stands next to me, and with a hand gesture he offers me a seat. I chose not to sit down in one last pathetic show of defiance, and I wait for him to start.

Taking a long sip before putting his drink down and clearing his throat, he begins, "I wanted you to know how much I love you son. More than you can ever imagine. I don't think of you as a disappointment, not now, not ever. I'm sorry that I ever made you feel that way.

"Years ago I admit, I was upset with your choices, but I can never be disappointed in the fine man you have become.

"Not long ago, I was sure I was going to lose you. I cannot tell you how difficult that was for me. I was alone. I couldn't talk to your mother. At the time I believed she was living in an alternate reality. She was upset at seeing you struggle, but she never once let herself think that you were not going to make it home. She wouldn't hear of it. She refused to talk to doctors about your potential prognosis and what they thought about how you were doing. Instead she wanted to tell the physicians what she knew about you, the part of you that they didn't know. She wanted them to know how strong you are, how much fire she has seen within you, one that she knows was not ready to be snuffed out. She wanted to explain to them all that they don't know you and what you are capable of, she never once lost her faith in you Edward."

I now feel like an ass while I stand above him in what was, only moments ago, my one last attempt to resist his benevolence. I begin to pace in front of him as he continues to speak. He knows I'm hanging on his every word.

"I came to the conclusion that she was living in a fantasy land, not able to face the reality that was bearing down on us. I knew she wouldn't be able to bear losing her brother and her son, both in the line of duty.

"I suffered the worst fear I have ever faced, completely alone, giving up on you and your mother. I don't think she would have been able to come back after what I was sure was going to happen. It was unfathomable to think about—but I was sure I was going to lose you both.

"I swore to myself that in the unlikely event that you ever got better, I would make sure you knew just how proud I'm of you, and how much I love you."

His voice raises and with a hint of maniacal laughter he says, "As crazy as it sounds, I love the fact that you screamed in my face and wanted to hit me! At least you are here and angry with me. That is so much more than I could have ever hoped for back then.

"The only thing I regret is that you ever felt that I was embarrassed by you. I love you so much. I gave up on you once Edward, while you were dying in that hospital bed. It was the one time when you needed more than ever for me to believe in you and I can't ever let that happen again."

He barely made it through the last words before he was in tears standing up and hugging me just as hard and furiously as I was hugging him. He was sobbing unrestrained as we held each other, tears flowing down my face, and I cried like I have never cried before.

I love my father. He is the most important man in my life. He always has been. But most of my own old insecurities get in the way of me showing him any kind of warmth. Now he is apologizing to me and me to him. We mean it. I have so much to be grateful for, not the least of which is my family.

As long as they're by my side, I know I can endure everything else life has to throw at me.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: As most of you are aware, there was a problem with chapter updates being sent out last week. I posted two chapters then, so make sure you're up to speed or this might not make sense.**

**Thank you to all those who read this story for allowing me to experiment on you during this learning experience and especially those who take a moment to review. I love to hear from you.**

**Thank you kitchmill, you are the greatest beta a girl could ask for.**

Edward

My father and I sit down and sort out a lot of our problems. Most of them are my problems really, because if I look back on our relationship, every bit of contention between us stems from me feeling unworthy in his eyes. I always thought his disappointment in me outweighed his fear for my safety, that the latter was his way to shroud the former.

Mom lost a piece of her heart after her brother, Alistair died. But she never let that stop her from loving me and supporting me and my decision to become a firefighter. Uncle Al was a police officer, which is a different ball of wax.

Not since after the fight Dad and I had some years back, on the day when I told him I was not becoming a doctor, has he outwardly shown me any contempt. I just kept it going in my own mind.

That day was sheer ugliness and I guess I never really got over the fact that after I spoke those words that I had feared telling him, my father punched me square in the jaw.

Other than a rare swat to the butt when I was a kid, that was the only time my father ever put his hands on me. It caught me off guard, and I stumbled but I did not go down. In turn it caused me to unleash a lot of pent up anxieties and adrenaline with my fists and I wound up, in turn, beating on my own father.

Thank God Emmett was there to pull me off him or else who knows how far it would have gone.

My father is no lightweight. He was a boxer in college and could hold his own. He gave me more of a fight than I expected. But I know more than a couple of my punches hit their mark.

My mother and Alice were a screaming and crying wreck after having witnessed our brawl.

I wish I could say my hitting my father was self-defense, but he punched me once and walked away. He made a statement; he wasn't looking for a fight. I felt far too much anger and pride to let him get away with that, so I viciously attacked him when he turned his back to me. It was the farthest thing from self-defense there could be.

I left my parent's house after Emmett pulled me off my dad, and I honestly thought that I would no longer be welcome in their lives ever again. There was no excuse for what I had done. I was furious, but at the same time I felt so much shame. I let my father down and then, out of guilt, I did the unthinkable and raised my hands to him in anger.

After leaving my parents' house, I found myself on an impromptu three day hiking trip, which was something I really used to love to do. It centered me, and that was what I desperately needed in that moment of my life. I didn't speak to anyone during that time while I went to cool down and hope my family didn't turn their backs on me for good.

When I got back to my apartment, my sister was casing it. She alerted my mother within an hour of my arrival. My mother showed up and didn't even bother to knock on my door, instead she used her key and demanded to be heard. Dad and I were both still physically bruised and emotionally battered, but we were mandated to apologize to each other at the threat of my mother. I wanted to be annoyed at her for barging into my home and telling me what to do. I was a grown man after all. But, I know she had only the best intentions. Above all else, Mom is determined to make sure her family is properly cared for and loved. Besides, I was grateful that she didn't disown me.

She was beside herself with worry over me while I was gone. My father was sleeping in a hotel room because my mother was so angry she kicked him out of the house until he mended his relationship with me. She was angry with me as well for my actions, so I wasn't in the clear, but Dad was definitely in the dog house more than I was.

I apologized to my mother for worrying her and to my father for hitting him, but I would never apologize for choosing my path in life. I did what I thought was right for me, which just didn't fit into my father's plans of a perfect little family of doctors.

I never really forgave him for hitting me that day. It wasn't the punch itself or the pain it inflicted, which was so minor in relation to what I thought it stood for. I instantly read so much into that one moment. It was the only time in my life that I have ever seen my father lose control and do something reactionary and in poor judgment. To me, it symbolized his shame with having me for a son.

Things were strained for a while, but my mother refused let her family be torn apart. She made sure we all got together every Sunday for dinner.

I have to admit, my father held the olive branch out to me many times, only to have me minimize the gesture over and over for years. Even just before the fire, while time had healed some of those wounds, I never really felt like my father would ever look at me like a real man. Like a man that deserved to be called a Cullen.

Now we are off to a new start and I felt like a new man. Dare I say—a Cullen.

After taking a long drive to calm my mind after an emotional morning, I am home and feeling a bit tired after all the crying, so I'm considering taking a nap.

Honestly, what has happened to me and everyone else around me since the fire? Now it seems we are all a bunch of crying and napping pansies.

I hope that chick flick that Bella is threatening me with tonight is not a tear-jerker. I can't be sure that I will hold it together. For that matter, I don't think I can be trusted around Disney movies either.

As I'm thinking of a nap and Bella, my phone rings. It is her. My chest swells with happiness, and I no longer feel tired.

"Hey, Bella."

"Hey, Edward, how was your night?"

Nice try, I think to myself. "How was my night? Really? You know damn well I fell asleep about thirty seconds after I stripped down and went from upright to supine. Don't even try it, Swan. How was your night?"

"You really go right for the jugular, don'tcha, Edward? I think we should be discussing your night, not mine. I'm sure you fell asleep just fine—you were beyond exhausted when I saw you last—it's what happened before your alarm went off that I would like to talk about. But since you asked, we'll get this out of the way now.

"I opted to speak to Jessica in person, rather than argue over the phone. Initially, she was being difficult, crying and carrying on that she doesn't want to lose me. We talked a lot about the problems we're having, and why our relationship is in trouble. I think we made some progress. Happy?

"Just so you know when I get there you are going to tell me all about that nightmare I know you had last night, and everything that went on at the doctor's office."

She is too tenacious for her own good. "To respond to the second part of your statement first, I guess you were talking to my big mouthed sister who was talking to my father. You know, you should get your information directly from the source, Bella. And in response to part one, that's great news! I'm happy for you. I hope the make-up sex was awesome. I suppose I'll be able to meet Jessica this weekend then. I'm stoked," I say with enthusiasm, but mental images of Bella and her girlfriend having sex begin to assault my mind.

Am I an idiot? Why yes, yes I am.

My dick is not gonna let my imaginings slip by without making himself known.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"Edward, not that it is any of your business, but we just talked last night. I was so exhausted. And yes, she agreed to come over, but she can't make it this weekend. She just left to go visit her mom for a couple days.

"Also, I am coming directly to the source. That's why I am talking to you now. And stop calling Alice a big mouth!"

No sex, well that's too bad. What good are arguments if it weren't for the rowdy make up sex you get to have afterward?

"First, let me explain something about my sister. Alice is, was, and forever shall be—a big mouth.

"Second, well maybe another weekend then? Soon? You guys could bring bathing suits for the hot tub after. We could have a glass of wine and talk. I promise to be nice."

Holy shit! I don't recall consciously making a decision to ask Bella and her girlfriend to come over, strip down to their bikinis and get drunk in my hot tub. What the hell is wrong with me?

I think the only explanation is that my over enthusiastic penis now has a direct path to the speech center of my brain.

I must try to override any further uncensored conversations from my penis, or there could be big problems.

"Dinner sounds good but I really don't think she will go for the hot tub idea."

I would like to object and fuss over this, but I choose to silently acquiesce. "Alright, but will you let me cook for you guys?"

"Now I am afraid. Do you even know how to cook?"

"Bella, oh ye of little faith. It seems there are many things you have yet to learn about me. Yes, I can find my way around a kitchen. I haven't lived on only take-out and my Mom's Sunday dinners for the past ten years. You will just have to be subjected to healthy food.

"I fell off the wagon big time last night, but I made an exception. I think my Mom is trying to fatten me up. But little does she know that I am going to renew my membership to the gym so I can put some meat on these bones the right way."

"I'm proud of you Edward. I don't think I have ever met anyone with more determination and focus to getting better than you have. You've come so far."

I took the compliment for what it was, but honestly, I just felt impatient, and if that is what is fueling the outcome, so be it.

"Thanks, but I give almost all the credit to one beautiful nurse that was my inspiration. She is an amazing person inside and out."

"Who? That skank Charlotte from rehab that practically dropped to her knees just before you left? If you feel so strongly about her why did you delete her number from your phone, huh?"

Cute. She couldn't bluff if her life depended on it. Her giggles are giving her away. I opt to crank her up a little, "Listen, Charlotte is a credit to the nursing profession. I'm sure she has made many a man feel healthy again."

"Gross, Edward! God, you're such a typical man!"

"Is that supposed to be insulting? I am a man, you know. Not sure about typical, and certainly not with Charlotte, but a man nonetheless, thank you very much."

"It's just that a lot of men just think about sex a lot of the time."

"I have it on good authority that all men think about sex pretty much all the time. Other things may pop into our minds but the thought doesn't last long, then—poof—right back to sex. It's in our DNA, we can't help it. I hope that's not a deal-breaker in our friendship."

She replies but I detect a hint of sadness in her voice, "Well, thinking about it is one thing…but…acting out on it…well that's another. I have such little faith in humanity…

"Hey, can I ask you a question?" Her question is voiced in a little more of an upbeat manner than her previous observation. I agree instantly, but I wish I could have more insight into her sudden, melancholy comment.

"It's a very personal question. You don't have to answer it, but I hope that you wouldn't lie if you do. I was just wondering…have you ever cheated on your girlfriend or fiancée or wife?"

This came out of left field, but nevertheless, she barely finished her sentence before I answered. "Never. Not once. Not even when my ex-wife went bat-shit crazy and withheld her affections from me for almost a year. It was never a consideration. Did I think about sex all the time? HELL YES. Unless you call yanking it in the shower every morning or to internet porn whenever I get a chance cheating, then no."

"Umm, Edward…too much information heeeeeeerrrree…"

"Oh, uhm, sorry!" I can feel my face getting red. Normally, I don't have a problem remembering Bella isn't Emmet and I'm usually not as vulgar with her, but that was a miserable failure.

I clear my throat before I speak. "What I meant to say is, I don't cheat, period. It's something that I feel pretty strongly about so I don't anticipate it will ever be a problem for any future girlfriend, fiancée or wife either."

"You certainly seem adamant. I guess the girls in your future are pretty lucky then. Did something happen to you, or is this just your own morals on the topic?"

"Yeah, something happened and it was pretty messed up. I'm not too proud of it, but I'll tell you the story if you want to hear it."

"Well, I wouldn't mind a story while I'm shopping for some ingredients for our dinner tonight. I would love to hear it."

I went on to tell my tale, and other than a few interspersed comments here and there, she never once interrupted my rant.

"Uhm, well, the first girl I ever thought I loved cheated on me, and I guess it changed my life in a way. She was a little older and more experienced. I was a junior in high school, she was a senior. She told me she had sex a couple times and told me about her first and she made it sound awful, so I never got the impression she was in a hurry to repeat it. Anyway, all she had to do was put her hand in my jeans and let me put mine in hers, and I followed her around like a stray puppy. I respected her, and even after a couple months into our relationship, I still didn't try to push her any further. She never asked or pushed back, so I just thought she was content. In retrospect, I should have communicated with her about it, but hell, I was just a kid. I never had any luck before with any other girls I dated, so I was patient, hoping one day when we were ready, it would happen. The same condom sat in my wallet waiting for his big debut for more than four months with her. I tried to be a gentleman because I really, really liked her."

I get myself a drink, because this is a long story and my mouth is already getting dry thinking of those unpleasant days.

"I didn't know it at the time, but a quasi-friend of mine got her drunk one day and had sex with her, video included. She must have felt guilty afterward because she suddenly threw herself at me, and we had sex the next day in my car. It was my first time. It was so cliché and looking back on it, I kind of wish that I had a little more advanced notice because I would have wanted to make it a little more special, but at the time, she wanted it right there and then. I may have been willing to wait for as long as it took, but I was still a teenage boy and for heaven sake, she was offering and there was no way I was saying no, no matter what the location. If I lasted fifteen seconds, I'd be surprised. She pretended to have an orgasm within the first five seconds so I was golden. Of course, at the time I didn't think she was faking, I just thought I was a natural. It was a good day to be me."

A laugh escapes me when I think about how proud I was that day.

"She told me she loved me in the back seat of my car and I told her the same. Up until then, I thought maybe I was in love, but I was afraid to say anything. I didn't want to scare her away. When she said it first, I was over the moon.

"After that, I was certain I was in love. Pardon my expression, but my dick was chaffed after a week of non-stop, anywhere anytime sex, sometimes four or five times a day. I was never so proud when the second time in a week I had to buy a jumbo box of condoms at the drugstore and the same cashier, a guy who was a real ass, was the behind the counter both times.

"She was every teenage boy's dream come true and she was all mine, or so I thought. Hearts, roses, poems, thinking one day, she and I would be married, you name it, I was guilty. I was worse than a teenage girl. I had it bad.

"A couple weeks later, my douche bag friend's older brother, who was a senior, somehow got the video camera that was used, which still had the tape in it. Personally, I think his brother made sure he found it. He was proud he nailed my girl. The camera with the video was brought into school by the brother. It was the main attraction during lunch in the cafeteria. I didn't know what everyone was making a fuss about until I was called over to witness the evidence along with everyone else. The bastard had it planned.

"I puked up the lunch that I had just finished which added to the fiasco. Everyone laughed at me as I was gutted in front of the entire junior and senior class.

"I'll bet to this day, the students won't remember their teachers' names but they will remember the look on Edward Cullen's face when he unknowingly started watching a video of his girlfriend getting laid by his buddy."

My hands involuntarily tighten while holding the phone in one and my water bottle in the other.

"Conspicuously, the leading male and female characters in the film were nowhere to be found. When I caught up with her, she was in tears hiding out in the girl's room, just as humiliated as I was. I wouldn't have cared if she was in the principal's office. I marched in, ready to give her hell. Up until I saw her in tears, I was so angry that I had more than a few choice words planned, but then I thought about it and realized I wasn't the only victim here. While the sex was consensual, recording it was not, so it was a shock to her as well. She tried to apologize but there was nothing that could be said to make a difference at that point. I calmly broke up with her. She cried harder and wanted to explain, but I couldn't bear to be in her presence any longer. I saw her in passing once in a while, she always wanted to talk, but I refused to ever speak with her again.

"Shortly after I found her, I found him hiding in his car the parking lot. I broke the side window out with a big rock, opened the door and pulled him out to beat the shit out of him, funny how his big brother, who was a piss ant anyway, didn't stop me. I got suspended, almost expelled, and he was sent to the ER to be treated by, of all people, my father, for a broken nose and cut over his eye that needed stitches. I also had to pay the monetary damages for his car and medical expenses that weren't covered under insurance. I guess they never actually sued me because the family didn't want the other details of the case to become public. Especially since in the video, if you can divert your eyes from the main attraction, you can see that they were drinking hard liquor, probably from his Mom and Dad's stash."

I breathed out a long sigh in recollection of my next memory. "She always did well in school, but I heard she wound up going to county college, which she never finished, fell in with the wrong crowd and got arrested a couple times for possession of drugs.

"I don't know what happened to the other asshole, except from hearing from other people I know who are friends with him on Facebook. They said he works in construction now, divorced with a couple kids.

"I was in line as a strong candidate for the same ivy league school that my parents had gone to, which is the same school where Alice went to complete her undergrad courses, but my little tantrum blew that to hell. Needless to say my father had a fit. No amount of money would fix what I did in anger."

My jaw had to unclench to finish speaking, but I was starting to feel pretty tense right about now. "So yeah. The far reaching consequences of all that happened were incredible. It completely changed my future and maybe theirs as well.

"I would never do that to anyone I care about. If I had to, I would break off the relationship first. So no, the short answer to if I have ever cheated, is no."

My once prominent hard-on from five minutes ago is now nowhere to be found.

"Huh. Well alright then. Not the answer I expected. I'm so sorry you had to go through that, Edward, and I'm sorry that I dredged up all those uncomfortable memories. High school is difficult enough without something so scandalous happening. It must have felt like the end of the world as a teenager."

"I don't really think about it much anymore, but it was really rough for a while back then. Through it all, my mother never let me stay home from school, or drop out of sports, or do anything to hide myself away from the humiliation I was feeling. Football, hockey and baseball were pretty therapeutic. I did well and the town loves their high school athletes, so at least I had some positive recognition on top of all the negative.

I guess that mess just solidified my morals on the issue. Why would you ask that anyway?" Hopefully she will tell me what's on her mind. I suspect it may have something to do with Jessica.

"I just thought most men, if given the opportunity, would cheat." She whispered something after the last sentence about "or maybe it's just because of me," but I couldn't quite be sure what she said. Anyway, I was too irritated by her first sentence to comprehend much after that.

I wanted to hurt whoever made her believe this. "WHAT? Really? Why do you have such ridiculously low expectations of men? Is it because of what happened with your parents? That was an unfortunate situation, Bella, but not all men would handle their problems the same way.

"Do you think my dad would cheat on my mom? Excuse my language but I'll tell you right now, Emmett and Jasper don't do that shit either. I would castrate them if I found out."

"No, I guess I didn't think this through before I spoke. It isn't fair because sometimes women have similar problems with fidelity. I have always held you in a higher regard than a lot of other men, some of whom I am no longer friends with, they turned out to be awful people that treated the women in their lives like trash. It's just that something in your tone a few minutes ago reminded me of them. I'm sorry. It was silly really, there are plenty of good men out there, and I know in my heart you're one of them."

She tells me that she is sorry about a dozen more times and that she is going to make it up to me tonight by making me a fabulous dinner.

By her indirect admission, I realize her problems with Jessica are worse than I thought. I suppose this cheating question has everything to do with her girlfriend.

"Bella, talk to me. What happened? I thought you worked everything out with Jessica last night. Is she cheating on you?"

"Believe it or not, no…Well, I really don't think so...We're doing better, but it's still not the best. I don't know if we can salvage our relationship in the long run, but I just have to be careful how I go about things, she is really close with my boss. Anyway—it's complicated and I don't want to talk about it right now. Okay?"

"Alright, but I'll be here when you're ready. You know that right?"

"Yes, and you have no idea how much that means to me. But just so you know, I am not nearly as upset as you might think. Really, it's not that big of a deal. I'm okay. Please don't worry about it because I promise you, I'm not."

Something in her voice told me that she was absolutely not lying; she is really doing just fine. "I know you're a strong woman. Okay, Bella."

She tells me good bye and that she will see me in ten minutes and that makes me very happy. Bella will be here soon so I make sure I look presentable.

It's no use. No matter what I do to it, my hair is still an unmanageable mess. The last time I had a haircut was about a month ago when I was admitted into rehab. They actually have a place right there where you can get a haircut, that is if they can squeeze you in between all the old ladies who, after their strokes, are getting perms and dye jobs.

My door bell rings and I can't get to it fast enough. I play it cool and slowly walk the last couple steps because I don't want to appear too anxious to see her. But I am.

Bella is holding a couple grocery bags that I immediately relieve her of. She initially wanted to refuse my help and telling me that she would lug the bags in, but probably realized how emasculating that would have been. Today I have had quite enough of being told that I'm no longer as capable as the man I was a few months ago.

I put some of the ingredients into the fridge and correctly deduce that we are having vegetable lasagna with garlic bread and chocolate brownies with vanilla ice cream for dessert.

Once I put the groceries away, she hugs me and kisses my cheek. She takes me by the hand and sits me down to talk about what happened today.

Apparently I was right; she got the heads up from Alice who spoke with my dad. Dad actually phoned Bella as well and asked her if she could make it over to my house earlier. He was a bit worried because of my nightmare last night and how I would be doing after the emotional rollercoaster that I was on today.

"Your dad also told me that you both got into a little scrape while at the doctor's office today. Is that true?"

I feel like I am being brought in for questioning and wonder why she didn't read me my rights first or provide me with a lousy public defender. I'm a bit annoyed, but I answer, hoping it isn't evident in my voice. "Yeah, I suppose you already know that Dr. Caius won't give his consent for me to go back to the fire department. Ever."

She sadly nods and asks if I had any plans on what would happen next. All I could tell here was that Emmett was coming over tomorrow so we could talk. He is a shop-steward and will be able to give me some advice on what my next step should be.

I continue explaining what happened between my dad and me. "When Dr. Caius told me the news, in my mind it seems as though he was conspiring with my father. I flew off the handle and accused my father of sabotaging me. I got up in his face and said some pretty nasty things. At that point, I was not above taking a shot at him, public place or not. He pushed me into the wall and put me back in my place. When we got back to his house, we had a heart to heart and ironed out a lot of long standing issues. It's not the first time that my father and I got a bit rough with one another, only this time it ended peacefully."

Bella seems shocked at my statement. "Edward, I had no idea that you and your Dad had anything but a picture perfect father, son relationship. He hit you when you were a child?"

I laughed at her assumption. "No, no, nothing like that! He was my idol when I was growing up, but when I finally did, it wasn't all rainbows and unicorns. I had free will, and I was no longer conforming to his vision of the perfect family.

"My mom has a doctorate degree in genetics and was a professor at the state college. She just left a couple years ago and of course you already know Dad's specialty is emergency medicine.

"They both finished their degrees while raising twins, mind you.

"Alice follows in the family footsteps and becomes a pediatrician, but their only son that will carry on the Cullen name, takes a job that at the time required no more than a G.E.D."

I begin nervously pacing while I tell her about our first fight and how I always felt like a failure in his eyes.

"I find it so hard to believe this man you are describing is the same man that I met in the hospital. I wish you could have heard him talk to me about you. He was beaming with pride every time.

"Afterward, he would brush the hair away from your forehead and whisper how much he loved you. I swear it seemed that if he could, he would have crawled into bed and held you in his arms like you were his baby boy again.

"You were always his favorite topic of conversation. How good you are at your jobs, how proud he was of you, how intelligent you are, and that you were summa cum laude of your class. He did tell me that at first he was against you going into the fire service for the very reason that landed you in that hospital bed. He was so afraid that you would be hurt."

I want to laugh because that reason never seemed significant to me until this morning.

"He explained to me what your family had gone through with the death of your Uncle and he was terrified that they would lose you as well. He told me he eventually came to terms with your choice, but it didn't stop him for praying for your safety every night since you joined the department.

"Honestly, he brought in almost as many pictures of baby Edward as your Mom did. Did you know he has a picture of you in his wallet when you were a little boy wearing a red fireman's helmet, playing with a fire truck that you got for Christmas? He said it was when you were about three and a half years old. I have to admit, you were incredibly adorable. He told me that he put that picture in there not long after you graduated from the fire academy. He has that picture on one side and the one of your academy graduation with you wearing your dress blues on the other. It was the first picture he ever showed me of you."

Now it was my turn to look shocked. I most certainly did NOT know that. I sit back down because my knees have this little problem with locking lately, and I feel as if I need a seat before I wind up on my ass.

How could I have doubted my father for the past ten years? Ten years of a slow burning animosity that was not boiling over, just simmering in the background. I had been waiting patiently for him to remind me again of what a failure I am. I had no idea that day would never come.

I wanted him to lose it again, prove to everyone that he might have fooled them but he didn't fool me. I wanted him to prove to everyone that time had not changed his mind that he thought his son was worthless in his eyes. I wanted him to say to everyone that he knew his son could never measure up to the rest of the Cullen family, that I had every opportunity and threw it away to pursue what he would consider menial labor. Yet, it was never going to happen.

How was I so blind? He's my father. He's a good man that only wants the best for his children—both of them. For ten years I harbored these feelings. What had I done?

I suddenly don't feel well. It's not panic, but a profound guilt at my own stubbornness. No matter what my mom and Alice tried to tell me about my Dad, I refused to listen. I was such an ass.

Bella must sense my unease and she puts her arm around me telling me that it is all going to work out.

I swear this woman is magical. I begin to feel better with each subsequent breath I take.

If only she could be there and work her magic when I fall apart in the middle of the night, when reality and my brain fail to acknowledge one another.

"How do you do that, Bella?" I have to know her secret.

"What, how do I do what?" Now she is playing stupid.

"How do you make me feel at ease within moments of putting an arm around me, calming my fears? How do you get through to me in one night, what the rest of my family tried to do unsuccessfully for almost ten years? I'm not a little boy anymore, and you're not my mama, but I swear you could kiss my boo-boos and make them feel better."

A blush appears on her cheeks and she smiles brightly. "All I did was give you an unbiased outsider's opinion. Along with all that your family has gone through lately with your illness, this information was thrust into the forefront. Basically, I just think that you and I were sent into each other's lives at the perfect moment when we both needed someone."

I frown slightly because of her assessment. "Bella, you have given so much to me from day one, there is no way I could possibly repay you for everything. I feel like I need you so much, and you are out there just giving and giving of yourself, until one day there will be nothing left."

She moves in closer to me and holds my hand. She looks at me in silence for a moment before speaking, never breaking eye contact with me as my emotions roil like a tempest. "You give to me more than you could ever know. In you, I have found a friend that I can honestly say I never really had. I hit the jackpot between you and your sister. You both have helped me so much. Never doubt that.

"My job aside, I've only done what any friend would do for you, like you have done for me. This is not a competition. Helping one another doesn't have to even out by the end of the day. My problems are so minor in comparison to some of yours. You keep everything in perspective for me, Edward. You ground me."

Emotions are getting the best of me again, I swear this is hopeless. I lean over and hug her fiercely. She feels so soft and smells so sweet. She is an angel sent to save me, yet she is so humble about everything she has done. I press her into me, and nothing has ever felt so right. She feels like home.

"God, Bella, I love you so much."

It was barely audible, but it was out there, unbidden. I have no idea how the emotion that slipped from my sub-consciousness, manifested itself into a whisper.

As quickly as those words leave my mouth, I realize the ramifications of what I've said. My movements freeze. I pull away from Bella and with anxious eyes, I look at her and start to explain, "NO! Aw jeez, Bella, I swear—" but she cuts me off with a finger over my lips, shushing me.

"Don't you dare try to explain that away Edward Anthony Cullen. And don't you dare try to take it back. I love you too, silly. I just hoped you kinda knew that by now. There is no shame in it, and I won't have you beating yourself up about saying what you feel, for saying something that no one should ever feel guilty about.

"Let me even the playing field for you a bit. Just so you know, I realized I loved you a while ago. I never said anything because I didn't want to give you the wrong idea and have you feel compelled to respond.

"Don't forget, thanks to your family, I felt like I knew all about you even before you opened your green eyes for me. Your family showed me just how deserving you are of their love. I found that I was not immune to the charm of Edward Cullen. You all but swept me off my feet without even saying a word. Now THAT is pretty amazing, don'tcha think? You must be one pretty special guy."

Tears are in my eyes again, and I know I can't have her see me like this.

I pretend to rub my face in frustration to make sure my tears do not fall over and I thank her for everything she is to me. She smiles knowingly at me. I think she sees right through my little cover-up move.

She cuts the tension by ushering me into the kitchen so we can start on making the brownies so they will be cool and ready later on tonight. While we are in there, she stops, turns me around and gives me a hug that rivals mine from a minute ago. Again, I can feel the energy she gives off as it radiates through her into me.

To ease the tension, she throws a shot over my bow. "I know you'll want to eat dinner earlier than a retired Florida couple at Denny's sporting white patent leather belts and Bermuda shorts, wearing sandals over their black socks. So we'd better get cooking now so you can be in bed by seven thirty."

I laugh at her not so incorrect analysis of my life lately. I hug her back, hoping that somehow she can feel how much she means to me through our embrace. I do love her—more than she can ever know.

Later that night I realize that Bella is right on the money with me wanting to eat early. After extensive conversation on what was left of my career and the possibilities that lay in front of me, as well as the nightmares that have been plaguing me, I'm starved and can't wait for the lasagna to come out of the oven by four thirty.

It's amazing. Again I eat like I'm going to the electric chair in the morning. I can barely keep my eyes open by nine thirty when Bella tells me that she's leaving because I need to get some sleep.

I wish she wouldn't go. I ask her to stay with me and her eyes grow wide.

"Please, I swear, you know I would never try anything. Even with as tired as I feel now, I'm so afraid of going to sleep after last night. So much has happened today that I know the nightmares will come back tonight. Please stay with me—just tonight, Bella?"

She reluctantly agrees. I set up the guest room for her and she assures me she is a light sleeper. If I need her, she will be there.

I give her one of my T-shirts and sleep pants that are ridiculously large on her small frame but even still, she looks fabulous. I make sure I wear a T-shirt and a pair of boxers under my sleep pants which I don't normally do, but since Bella will be in my home tonight I don't want to make her uncomfortable.

I'm unconscious before ten p.m.

One eighteen a.m. Terror grips me as I wake with my T-shirt soaked in sweat and sticking to my skin. I cannot catch my breath; I'm spiraling out of control again. This time it's instantaneous and worse than last night. I think I'm doomed—too far gone. I'm losing control.

I sit up trying to find more air and moments later, just before I decide to call out for Bella, I feel a gentle embrace as Bella's arms hold me. She positions herself next to me in my bed and holds me tighter. Her arms instantly keep the panic from making any progress. She whispers in my ear to tell me that everything is fine, nothing has changed and that I will be all right. I can barely hear her over my raspy breathing, so I have to concentrate on every word. They hit their mark.

I believe her.

It's God damn magic, I tell you. Within minutes I start to feel in control again. She says I'll be all right, therefore, it must be true. My mind snaps back into line almost as easily as it fell over the edge.

I hug her back, telling her how grateful I am that she is here. That she has no idea how much she just helped me. I swear I will move heaven and earth for this woman.

After I let her go, I instantaneously apologize and offer her a change of clothes, since the sweat I am drenched in is now on her shirt as well. If she is disgusted by this, you would never notice it, and she says that she will be okay.

I decide to change my shirt and dry off. I turn on the side light to get a clean one. I didn't even think to leave the room and I take off my shirt in front of Bella. A small noise escapes her and I instantaneously blush as I realize, while she has seen my bare chest before, it was always in a professional capacity.

I hastily shove the clean shirt over my head. I apologize and she tells me to forget about it. She pats the bed for me to come back. I'm a bit shocked, but I do as she asks. As I hop back into bed and turn out the light, she wraps her arms around me and I feel safe once again. The only sound is our breathing, it is intimate, but not sexual, and I feel only contentment.

After a minute or so, Bella breaks the silence. "Do you want to talk about your dream?"

I don't really. I was so comfortable just a second ago that I didn't want anything to change that. It's too late now; just the question alone has broken the spell.

Since she helped me, I almost feel obliged to explain. I give her some basic information, telling her that the dream always has a different beginning but always ends up that I can't change the fact that Jared and Harry will die. Each time it happens, I'm responsible for their death and no matter how hard I try to save them, I will wind up killing them.

"How much have you told the doctor about all this?"

"Enough. It's just that whenever I tell Dr. Cope anything, she seems she seems to have a new pill that she wants me to take to fix it. I'm currently on five different medications for my mental problems. I know I'm nuts, but each new pill makes me think that I'm hopeless too. I hate having to take all those medications. Talking to you seems to help me more than all those prescriptions combined."

I am worried about becoming dependent upon Bella, but I know that she is a lot healthier for me than taking those freaking pills, especially Xanax.

"I think that the medications are doing more harm than good, because I tend to cry really easily lately. I can't remember the last time that happened before the fire. I despise feeling so weak and vulnerable. I've never been so broken before."

"You're just beginning to get your life back on track and have had a lot to deal with in a very short time. And for the love of God, Edward, stop with the self-deprecation. You're not nuts and you're not hopeless. It's not only untrue, but it's unnecessary to say that. Honestly, it's ridiculous. Give yourself a break for just once."

She was legitimately angry at me.

"All right, I'm sorry. But thank you for being here. You have no idea how much you've helped me tonight."

After saying our goodnights, I close my eyes and say a prayer, thanking God for bringing this amazing woman into my life. Moments later I'm at peace once again.

Morning arrives and I find myself feeling recharged but I notice I'm alone. I rub my face, go pee and brush my teeth before washing my face. The cool water helps wake me up and I feel surprisingly well rested.

Three minutes later I'm downstairs looking upon Bella making breakfast in my clothes, singing along to a song on the radio. I swear to God, in this one stereotypical moment, she is a vision of everything I ever wanted in a woman. I'm infuriated that she will never be mine in the way I would like, but at the same time, I'm thankful that she shares this much of her life with me.

I'm well aware that the lines between friendship and more are starting to blur within my mind. I would never want do anything to jeopardize our relationship, so I have to pull back. Bella doesn't seem to be aware of the appeal she holds with the other sex—me included. I have to start looking at her more like a sister, not even a friend; otherwise I could try something stupid and wind up losing everything.

It becomes my resolve. I need her too much to allow my base instincts take over.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Sorry, but this is another HUGE chapter. Originally, it was even longer but I cut it back and left you with a (tiny) cliffie—maybe one that will prompt discussion and get me a few more reviews. **Sigh** Alas, it's true—I've put your warm and fuzzies on the line for reviews. Call me a review h00r…I'm okay with it.**

**As always, my thanks to kitchmill, who is my beta and mentor during this process. Not that she needs my meager help to get readers, but I'm in love with Daddyward in Altered Measure.**

Chapter 11

Bella

A new year is well under way. Almost three months have passed since Edward has been home. During that time he's regained his full strength and is now the same weight as he was at the time of the accident, which is just about two hundred pounds of nearly solid muscle. With the exception of a few scars, he looks like the perfect picture of health and fitness.

He'll be cleared to go back to work at his other job as a flight paramedic soon. The good news is that within a few weeks, a full time position will be available. Since he's already there per-diem, he'll be able to fill that position.

Although there is still some red tape with his status in the fire department, for all intents and purposes, he is officially a disabled fire fighter. He'll collect a portion of his salary and retain his medical benefits. With this agreement, he can't take the city to court for any further compensation for his injuries, or any resultant problems that he may face due to the incident.

Emotionally, Edward still struggles, but acknowledges that he needs help. Even though I know he doesn't like it, he still goes to therapy and takes most of his medications as prescribed. He still stays away from the Xanax because he says it knocks him for a loop, only taking it as a last resort. He teases and says he doesn't need the Xanax as long as he has me. I'm glad I can help, but I know helping him means he has to admit his vulnerabilities. Now that he is fully recovered, I don't know if he will feel as comfortable with opening himself up as much. Edward can be too proud for his own good.

He tells me that he's doing better and I have to take his word for it. If Edward is upset about something and he's not talking, then he's probably not ready to communicate in any productive manner. If I press the issue, he retreats until he's ready. We've had a couple more heart to heart talks, but overall it seems as though he's not quite as forthcoming with his personal problems now as he has been in the past—well, except for one day I'll never forget. That day he wound up exhausted in my arms after revealing to me what's been haunting him.

It was a few days before Christmas. We were supposed to leave early for a trip into the city to do some last minute shopping. The day before, I couldn't contact him. I phoned him a couple times, but all calls went directly to voicemail and he wasn't at his house. Alice hadn't heard from him either. Since this is not typical Edward behavior, we were both a bit worried. I was under direct orders to let her know what's going on as soon as I found out anything, and vice-versa.

I talked to Emmett to see if he knew where Edward could be and why no one could contact him. He told me wasn't sure of the exact date, but he remembered that Jared had a birthday near Christmas. I knew this had to be the reason for Edward to uncharacteristically drop off the grid.

On the morning of our scheduled shopping trip, after a restless night's sleep, I was so much more worried when he still hadn't turned his cell phone on and was still not answering his house phone. I went to pay him a visit.

Knocking and ringing the doorbell proved ineffective. I was starting to panic. Thankfully, he gave me a copy of his front door key a while ago, so I let myself inside. My heart was pounding in my chest, unsure why he still wasn't answering me as I called his name loudly. I made my way to his bedroom on autopilot. I found him lying on his stomach, sprawled out in bed fast asleep, snoring loudly, with the bottle of Xanax on the nightstand. He was so deeply asleep that I had to physically shake him to get a response. I knew he had a rough night.

After a few more shakes he finally woke up, bleary eyed and sluggish. He apologized for frightening me and sleeping in. He explained that he usually doesn't take his sedative; this was one out of only three times he's ever used it. But, late last night he took two because he wasn't feeling well. He said it was the first time he doubled his dose and he'll never do it again, because now he felt like hell.

Otherwise, when I asked him what was bothering him, he stated abruptly that he didn't want to talk about it. He made it sound like the subject was summarily closed, no longer open for discussion, now or ever. He should be aware by now, that I know him better than that. He'll talk to me, only he has to do it when he's ready.

Not that I didn't trust him, but once he was out of bed and into the shower, I did count the remainder of the pills. True to his word, there were only four missing from a three month old prescription. I just needed to assure myself.

I told him our shopping trip was cancelled. He was angry and said he wanted to go. In reality I knew he just didn't want to be confronted about what had happened the day before, not because he was looking forward to hitting the mall for stocking stuffers a few days before Christmas.

I was patient and didn't push him. Instinctively, I knew that would only backfire. At the same time, I could tell that eventually the damn would break. I'd wait all day if I had to. By now, I was pretty confident I knew how to deal with Edward's moods.

I helped him decorate the house a little more, although I could tell he wasn't in a festive mood. His tree was already up, but from the attic, I dragged out some other boxes with wreaths, stockings and the like. With some food in his belly, Christmas lights and music, as well as a bit of hard cider, he eventually relaxed.

Not long after a dinner of take-out Chinese, he broke down and told me what had been tormenting him.

"I never wanted anyone to know the truth, keeping it inside is killing me more and more every day."

I've always known he carried around a lot of guilt and he would then give me some insight as to why. I brought him over to the couch so we could sit together and encouraged him to continue.

Edward restated the basics of what I already knew about the fire. Some of the facts were from what he had mentioned before and the rest I knew from what I'd been told by Emmett.

Jared was very much alive when he and Harry got to him. They found him in a closet on the second floor which was spared from much of the fire, but there was still a lot of smoke.

He told me about the decision to go back out the way they came and what a mistake it had been.

That part of the floor and a non-load bearing wall that was compromised gave way and they all fell.

All that information I already knew, but it set the stage for the rest he was about to explain.

Harry fell first, and Edward, who was carrying Jared, followed.

I could tell that there was more bothering him, but Edward was hesitating and shaking his head as if he did not want to say anything else. I took his hand and silently waited for him to continue. I knew if I did not push him, he would soon find the words that eluded him.

With a sadness in his eyes that I haven't seen since he was in the ICU, he said, "I tried to change my position, but it all happened so quickly."

He leaned into me and I held him close. It seemed he needed more contact than just holding my hand. We settled in together with his head on my chest with his arms around me. I ran the fingers of one hand through his soft hair. I felt the erratic rise and fall of his chest as he tried to control his emotions. It took a while for him to continue. The tears were then evident in his voice when he explained to me that he landed directly on top of the boy, crushing him. Edward said that although he sustained injuries himself, he was not knocked unconscious—not right away.

"I felt his bones break…it was sickening. It felt like twigs snapping under me. It was dark and smoky but I could still see him with the light on my helmet. I watched him gasp to breathe. I shifted off him as much as I could, he moved a bit, he moved his hand up and touched my mask, he was having such a hard time breathing, then he went still."

He moved a hand quickly to his face, catching another tear overflowing and on the way down his cheek.

"I called out to Harry but there was no response, I couldn't even see where he was.

"Emmett told me later that Harry was only a few feet away from where I landed. God, Bella, I had no idea that Harry was already dead."

We found out before Edward left rehab that Harry died of a broken neck and most likely never felt anything after the impact of the fall.

He took a deep breath and swallowed down his emotions before he said another word. I leaned in and kissed the top of his head gently, so grateful he is here and to the powers that be, who saw fit to spare his life.

"I knew we were in trouble. I had to make a decision. I took off my mask and put it on Jared.

"It was so difficult not to take mask back, because it was incredibly hard to breathe already. I knew I had some broken ribs, I felt them grind together in my chest with every breath I took. It hurt so much but the smoke was even worse. It made my throat and eyes burn like they were coated with acid.

"All the while, Harry's PASS device alarm was going off relentlessly."

He already explained to me once before that the PASS device is part of a fire fighter's safety equipment. It alarms if you don't move for more than fifteen seconds. It's a way for firefighters to find each other if one gets hurt or incapacitated.

"I think I just gave up struggling because the last thing I remember is hearing mine going off as well."

He fought harder to regain control of his emotions at that point. His breathing again was erratic as he tried to hold back the pain in his heart from becoming too apparent. I didn't know what to say so I just held him and waited until he was ready to go on, continuing to move my fingers through his hair with one hand and holding him just a little tighter with the other.

I recalled when Emmett told me what had happened that night. He said that they found Harry first and got him out which left Edward and Jared in the building for even longer. The guys who pulled out Harry said that they spotted Edward a bit farther away, but they couldn't get to him for another few minutes with all the debris in the way. By the time they got to Edward, he had stopped moving.

He didn't have his mask on; he had put it on Jared instead. He said that Edward also opened and wiggled out of his turnout coat almost all the way to cover the young boy, regardless of the fact that the arm he took out of the jacket was badly broken.

Emmett told me that he was sure that Edward knew exactly what he was doing and what the outcome would be—he was choosing to sacrifice his life in place of Jared's.

I was snapped out of my memory when Edward found his composure and with a rasping voice, continued, "I know everyone in the department thinks I'm some kind of fucking hero, Bella, but I'm just too God damned ashamed to tell them the truth! The truth is I knew I was going to die that day. I accepted that fact. I just didn't want to be conscious when the fire got to me. I didn't want to burn alive. I'd rather die from the smoke. I put my mask and jacket on the boy because I wanted him to live and it was his only chance, but he was already unconscious because I fucking crushed him! If the fire got to us both, he had a chance with the gear, but if it was too much, at least he wouldn't know it either."

There was now anger in his words that wasn't there moments before.

"It wasn't bravery, Bella. It was just choosing which way I was going to die. Anyone, if put in the same situation, would do the same thing!" The words were spit from his mouth with contempt.

I wanted to disagree with him telling him just how incredibly wrong his logic was. He completely downplayed how painful it must have been getting his jacket off of his arm with the bones in it so badly broken that they had pierced his skin. He did that so the boy would be covered. I wanted to point out that consciously choosing to die by suffocation is not an easy decision, nor one that someone routinely chooses. He could have kept the mask on and had faith that his brother firefighters would get to him soon. The other firemen got to Harry while Edward was still conscious. Emmett said that Edward's PASS alarm was not going off yet when the men got to Harry. He had to hear them working to get Harry out. He had to know it wouldn't be long before he was rescued as well. That night, he made the decision to give up his life on the chance that Jared would live.

I wanted to scream these things to him but there was a fury in his demeanor that I dared not challenge, not now.

I didn't know what to say to make him better. There were no words he would accept, from me or anyone else, that could take away his guilt and pain. I wanted to disregard his flawed perceptions, but I quickly realized it wouldn't help; he had to work this out in his own time. The wounds are still too raw for him to see everything clearly.

Worry washed over me. I hated that he was suffering with something I am so unable to help him with. The challenge of keeping him alive in the ICU months ago, with the wounds he physically sustained, seemed easy in comparison to what it I feared it would take to heal the wounds of guilt and regret that have injured his mind.

"I can't imagine the pain and confusion you feel right now, Edward. You did what you thought was right at the time. While you were trapped after the collapse, you gave that boy the only chance at life he had, regardless of anything else. I know you think everything was your fault. I want to dispute some of what you've said, but I know it wouldn't change your mind, not yet. I know you don't think you're worthy of any praise, but in my humble opinion, you exemplify valor and what it means to be a survivor."

He let out a fake laugh in the form of a gust of air in disbelief, but thankfully he didn't argue any further.

He told me that the day before, he went to the cemetery. It was Jared's birthday, and he would have been five years old. He was at the cemetery almost the whole day. No one had visited, except for him. Not even Jared's drug addicted mother, who was out getting high when the fire started, leaving her boy home alone.

This was what triggered his mood and allowed me insight into the memories that continuously replay in his mind.

He told me that he feels so guilty that he's alive while Harry is dead and this boy is gone and forgotten.

I explained that that isn't true, because he will never forget Jared, because of that alone, it causes a domino effect.

"All the people who love and care about you, they know how important that boy is in to you. Because of that, they in turn will never forget Jared either, especially me."

With that being said, he wondered aloud what life the youngster would have gone back to if he had survived.

All that was so much more than I could ever help him with. I just held him while he cried. My heart hurt for him, tears were streaming down my face as well.

He spent the rest of the night wrapped up in my arms and we fell asleep together on his couch, completely drained.

I woke up after two, because my right arm had no feeling with Edward still crushing it. I couldn't believe he didn't roll off the couch, in fact, I don't think we had moved at all in four hours. His face was still under my chin, resting on my chest when I woke up. My poor arm was a casualty of our emotionally exhausting evening. We made our way to his bedroom where we fell back asleep quickly, fully dressed. For the rest of the night we slept without an inch of space between us, as if he was holding onto me for dear life. It was very intimate, but in no way, sexual.

I was worried, but Edward made it through the night nightmare free.

I wanted him to continue to talk to me more about everything that troubles him. But after that one day, whenever I ask, he keeps telling me there's not much more to tell, and that he says he's paying a therapist for the rest.

Yes, stubborn Edward comes out to play quite a bit. For every step forward, we take another couple steps back. I know all this behavior hinges upon his hatred of seeming vulnerable. But for some reason he trusts me and lets me in to his mind—sometimes.

Yet for all he has told me, he's still so complicated, such an enigma. Unfortunately, there's still so much he withholds. I wanted to know more about this man who for all intents and purposes made a decision to willingly give up his own life to try to save a stranger, no matter what he tries to convince me to the contrary. What exactly makes him tick?

Whenever he's ready to talk, I promise, I'll be there for him.

**FL&SC**

Overall, Edward and I are very close. However, I still can't help but notice a subtle shift in his demeanor toward me; he seems to go out of his way to avoid touching me lately. With the exception of that one night before just before Christmas, I might as well be riddled with leprosy with the distance he puts between us. I hate that, but otherwise we have an exceptionally emotional bond. Edward means so much to me, and I know that the feeling is mutual. We are just friends, yet so much more.

Not many people would understand the extent of our connection to each other. Hell, sometimes I don't think we understand it either. I suppose that is part of the problem. He doesn't want to give me or anyone else the wrong idea, but Edward has never given me any indication that he sees me as anything other than a friend.

Carlisle and Esme both have assured me that they have never seen Edward so forthcoming with his emotions before. They assure me they have noticed quite a happy change in Edward's usually quiet and staid temperament, stating he's especially happy when I'm around. They are so grateful, giving me the credit for finally getting their son back, that they have welcomed me into their family unconditionally. I'm happy to be a part of it.

Alice and I frequently talk about Edward. She asked me if he has ever spoken to me about anything going on with his therapy. Without betraying any of Edward's confidences, I told her yes. She made it very clear that Edward's relationship with Jasper has changed dramatically since he got out of the hospital.

Alice said that, at heart, Edward is the suffer-in-silence type for everyone except me. He never says anything to anyone about the problems he has. Apparently, I'm the only one that could get him to talk. She said that once in a while, when he was married, he would get drunk and unload his problems on Emmett, but that's all. She said, she knew he wasn't happy, but he never revealed that his marriage was falling apart, he just kept it to himself until he filed for divorce.

She also said Edward was almost as close to Jasper as he is to Emmett, but since he's been home, he hasn't called Jasper once, or for that matter, returned any of Jasper's calls. Jasper's worried about him and he thinks that Edward is avoiding his company because Jasper's a psychiatrist.

She believes that Edward doesn't want to get close to Jasper again for fear that he may pick up on something that Edward wants to keep to himself. Alice told me that Edward always had a lot of misconceptions about the profession and prided himself on his ability to deal with his own problems.

She said Jasper thinks that Edward's nothing if not proud and stubborn, and she thinks he regrets all the remarks he made to Jasper about being a psychiatrist. He doesn't want to admit that he now needs one. He never wants to feel weak or less of a man. She also deduced that this is the reason why he's able to be more himself around me and not pretend to be this big, courageous man.

She said I had no preconceived notions about who he is or who he was supposed to be, and yet I chose to become his friend when he was at his lowest. With me, he could only move up. He doesn't want his family, especially the men in his family, to see him as weak or as less of the man he has tried so hard to prove he is.

She hugged me and told me that she's sure that if I were not in his life, Edward would find a way to self-destruct, essentially withdrawing into himself until he imploded.

He's been dealt such an enormous blow and the changes in his life are only just coming to light. Yet, he seems to be strong and thriving. Alice was in tears, and this time I hugged her, saying that Edward has been a Godsend to me as well. Honestly, so have she and her whole family. I have never felt so accepted and loved, and I'm truly grateful for it all.

Alice and I have solidified our friendship with many nights like these, and others spiked with girl talk. Sometimes it's a welcome reprieve from Edward's "Men are from Mars" approach to communication. He doesn't like to talk about things he can't change, and he doesn't see the benefit of talking about a problem, just to talk. It can be frustrating.

I've come to believe that Alice has the life I dreamed of having as a child. She's a girl who grew into a strong woman with a successful career, a handsome, loving husband, a wonderful daughter, and lives in a beautiful home. She has it all and she counts her blessings every day. I would too, if I were her.

Maybe one day I will have it all—or at least everything that matters—like Alice, but I would never resent her for her happiness. Although, with my previous, less than stellar record at finding a significant other and at the rate I'm going, it doesn't look likely.

I seem to need some stability and I get that with the Cullens, meanwhile, my relationship with Jessica is on a perpetual rollercoaster. And, regardless of any ramifications, I don't think it is worth it any longer. I'm prepared to deal with any problems my breakup with Jessica could cause between me and my boss.

I should have broken it off with her months ago. I still can't tell her that I love her because I don't. It's ironic that I said those three magic words to Edward, but can't say them to my girlfriend.

For a long while she was on her best behavior. Things were looking up, but now, inevitably, things have gone south again. To be fair, she tried so much harder for this relationship than I ever have. We haven't had sex in weeks. This also leads to arguments and resentment because she legitimately is trying to salvage whatever we have left, and I can rarely find it within me to be in the mood for intimacy.

She began blaming all our problems on Edward because she believes he's brainwashing me against her.

Jessica came to the conclusion that she hates Edward. I never told her that I believe the feeling is mutual. He seems to live his life under the advice that if you don't have anything nice to say—don't say anything at all. Well, I guess I know where he stands because he doesn't say much about Jessica, ever.

No matter how many times I've told her that he's never forced his opinion down my throat, she didn't believe me. Because of his if-you-have-nothing-nice-to-say rule, it seemed like lately, Edward was going to get a hernia restraining himself from speaking his mind about her when the topic arose.

She never found out about the two times I slept over Edward's house. She didn't even like that I spent time with him while she was at work. If she found out that we've been in the same bed together, holding each other through the night, she'd have had a meltdown. I guess her anger would have been justified, but she would never understand that Edward has been nothing but a gentleman and a friend.

The more time Jess and I spent together, the more we fought. When we didn't see each other as much was when she was jealous of the time I spent with Edward. I responded to her by citing all the time she used to spend with Sam, and we would argue even more.

If nothing else, Jessica has taught me that there are much worse things in life than being alone.

Within a couple weeks from the beginning of spring, Jessica and I are finally over for good. Spring symbolizes new beginnings after a long and cold winter, maybe the timing is appropriate. When it came right down to brass tacks, it was more difficult than I ever thought it would be.

Jessica took the news much harder than I suspected she would. She seemed genuinely surprised and cried relentlessly. At one point, she was on her knees begging me to stay. In return her display prompted me to be more indifferent than I expected. My mind was made up, and no amount of begging was going to heal the dysfunction and disrespect that has taken hold in what was left of our relationship.

At the time I was strong, but nevertheless, emotions threatened to take over once I left Jessica's apartment. I shed a few tears, not for Jessica, but for the loss of a relationship that started out promising.

Throughout it all Edward was my foundation. To his credit, he never said a bad word about Jessica, only that she didn't deserve me then, nor did she deserve my tears now.

I felt better knowing that he did not judge me or find me pathetic for not taking control of the situation earlier. He knew I struggled with the issues that I was afraid I would have to deal with at work with Sioban. If it wasn't for Jess being Sioban's cousin, I would have called it off long ago.

Tonight, not quite a week since the breakup, to make me feel better, he decides he wants to go out to a bar so we can scope out the women together. I laugh at his ridiculous idea, but go along with him because I need a bit of a distraction.

We go to a favorite pub of his called Rathskeller, which he hasn't been to since before his accident. We plan to do some people watching over a couple pints of Guinness. It's a decent looking bar with various sports on a dozen or so TVs and a parlor with a couple of pool tables and dart boards. It has an attached restaurant that looks pretty nice, which serves lunch and dinner. Most of all, not surprisingly, there seems to be no shortage of single women.

Jason, the bartender slaps Edward on the back and asks why he hasn't been around in so long. Edward simply tells him that he's been busy.

The man leers at me, and with a wink back at Edward he says, "You lucky dog! I understand why you don't make it out of the house much."

I could not believe his nerve! I'm standing right in front of him as he all but disrespects me.

Edward laughs bitterly. His clenched fists by his side betray an anger that his voice isn't revealing. "Look, man, no need to be inappropriate. This is Bella, my best friend, and only, my best friend. Bella, this is Jason."

A look of confusion takes over Jason's face before a gleam in his eye quickly replaces it. He takes my hand and kisses it, saying, "Beautiful Bella, if you ever wanted to hang out with a real man, you should give me a call."

He quickly scribbles his number on a cocktail napkin, handing it to me as he's smiling and mockingly apologizing to Edward.

He keeps his hand on mine for far too long. Edward pulls me away, seeming more than a little miffed as his jaw clenches, but manages a compulsory half-smile to me anyway. Just before turning to take our beers to our table, he grabs Jason roughly by the shoulder, causing him to lurch across the bar so he can bring him closer to whisper menacingly in his ear. "I promise you, asshole, I'll make it look like an unfortunate accident."

With both hands in the air for dramatic effect, Jason takes a step backwards.

I'm a bit rattled, and I'm sure that I'm blushing still as we sit down.

Edward apologizes for Jason's behavior. "I'm sorry, Bella. He's an ass and one of the biggest womanizers I know. Let me know if he so much as looks at you funny again and I'll take care of it."

I thank him and begin to relax while taking in the sights and sounds around me.

I correctly assume that Edward is not friends with Jason, merely acquainted with him, and that is the reason why he didn't know why Edward hasn't stopped by in a while. Nor was he important enough for Edward to feel the need to tell him about his accident.

"Jason's a part time bartender who was once a lawyer, but got disbarred. He used to live near the owner, who is a really nice guy. He had pity on the jerk when he lost everything, so he offfered him a job here to try to help him make ends meet. You know what they say about good deeds and all. Jason's a low life and tries to charm the pants off a new woman every night."

"Well, he definitely seems the type, but it's hard for me to believe he ever has any luck at all."

"You'd be surprised. He was a sleazy slip-and-fall lawyer. He lies with the best of 'em."

I smile at the double entendre and shiver at the thought of that degenerate bartender kissing my hand. He kind of reminds me of Mike, someone that looks down upon women as inferior and only placed on the planet to serve men.

After that little episode, Edward and I have a very enjoyable night, talking and laughing. Edward even shares an order of Buffalo wings with me. It seems he has a hard time turning down bar food when he has a few beers.

We are so caught up in each other that we don't pay attention much to the people around us getting drunk and stupid, which was our original intent. We talk and laugh the whole night. It's one of the most enjoyable nights I've had in a long time. Not once do I think of Jessica.

It is well after one a.m. before we leave; Edward is sober, having had his last beer about two hours prior. Me, on the other hand…not so much. He pours me directly into my bed and says goodnight. I think I'm asleep before his car leaves the driveway.

The next time I make it out to Rathskeller is a couple of weeks later.

While I'm at Edward's house on a Friday night, he tells me to stop down to the bar after work the next night, because he and Emmett made plans to be there. I tell him I would think about it, because I have to work the weekend. Being a hung over ICU nurse is no barrel of monkeys.

That night, when I got home from Edward's, I barely got four hours of sleep. I wasn't all that tired and it was only nine p.m., so I decided to watch a horror movie.

Big mistake—never again.

Saturday morning, at work, I text Edward, telling him that I would not be going tonight, that I need to catch up on some sleep, and to have a good time without me.

He complains in his text, but tells me that he'll see me on Monday.

By late afternoon, I feel as if the day will never end; Saturday is dragging. Our census is a bit low and the charge nurse asks me if I want to take a benefit day tomorrow because she's going to cancel two nurses.

I jump at the chance to get some rest tomorrow and to go to the bar tonight.

I decide to surprise Edward.

By eight o'clock that night I'm home, on my second wind, and taking a quick shower. Once I get out, the doorbell rings and it is Alice who stopped by to say hello. I ask if she wants to join me at the bar with Jasper. After a quick phone call to Esme, she and Jasper have an impromptu babysitter.

Esme arrives at Alice's house a little after nine thirty with an overnight-bag and stays with Jane, who is already asleep for the night. Alice, Jasper and I arrive at Rathskeller just after ten p.m.

We find a tipsy Emmett at a table alone. He's his usual boisterous self, maybe even more so in his inebriated condition.

"Hey guys! Welcome! I didn't even know you were coming. What are you drinking? The first round's on me!"

He wastes no time getting drinks in our hands with his generous offer and settles back down at the table with our beverages.

"Edward should be back in a little while. Well, he'd better be…he's my driver tonight."

Over some small talk, we finish with our first round when I finally ask where Edward is. Emmett laughs. He looks a bit undecided but says, "He's a little busy at the moment."

Alice asks before I get a chance. "What do you mean?"

"Your perfect brother left me here all by my lonesome because he hooked up with some girl he knows and is doing God knows what in the family bathroom."

I look to the area where he's pointing and notice there's a sign pointing down a hallway for a men's room, a ladies room, and a family bathroom. I assume the last is intended for the restaurant crowd bringing small children, and more alarmingly, it's apparently perfect for random, sordid hookups.

I could not believe what I was hearing. Edward wouldn't do that. He's too much of a gentleman. This has to be Emmett's idea of a bad joke.

Alice is disgusted and says that her brother is such a pig.

I feel my stomach roll and fall to my feet and my body becomes numb with doubt. I choose not to believe it and sit there coolly. I sip my beer and pretend as if this ridiculous story is true and that it doesn't bother me.

About ten minutes later, a rumpled Edward makes his way from the hall, walking toward our table. He stops in his tracks when he notices Emmett isn't alone.

Just prior, a girl kissed his neck and whispered something in his ear as she walked off to a distant table with two other girls who were waiting there, giggling as she walked up.

His face is initially flushed, but his color drains when he sees me sitting at his booth. At that moment, I know what Emmett said is true and I'm more than a bit shocked. I instantly regret coming here tonight. Witnessing this kind of behavior from Edward leaves me feeling queasy and uptight. If I'm being completely honest, there is a slight pang of envy when I look at that girl that he walked out with as well. I immediately reprimand myself for that ridiculous notion. Why would I be jealous of some slut Edward just took advantage of and discarded like a used condom? That isn't something I want to think of right now, so I put that irrational thought out of my head.

He sits down and acts as if nothing happened.

"Uh, hey, guys. Umm, I didn't know you guys would be here, uh…"

I can't imagine what my face must look like, but I notice my mouth is open so I make a point to close it.

Jasper smiles, but Alice is scowling and having none of this.

"Apparently not! I can't believe you would do something like that Edward! Were you raised by wolves? If you weren't my brother, I'd swear you were! You disgust me!"

He tries to say something but Emmett doesn't give him a chance.

Emmett mockingly scolds Alice. "Alice, geez, take it easy on him. He's only human, and it's been quite a while since Edward has gotten laid, ain't that right Edward?'"

His face visibly strains and a vein in his forehead becomes noticeable through his messy hair. As nicely as possible, through his gritted teeth, Edward asks Emmett to stop.

Emmett has had far too many beers to acquiesce to Edward's request. "Give him a break guys. So, did this one ask for some cash, Edward, or was it on the house? Ha! Just kiddin'"

I can't believe what I am hearing or seeing. I feel sick to my stomach.

Edward's face is now glowing red with anger. "Emmett, could I speak to you for a minute?"

Edward points toward to the corner of the bar. Emmet gets up and stumbles away.

Alice tells Jasper to keep an eye on them. Not a few seconds later, the bar tender, an older man, yells at them both, telling them to take it outside now. Out they go, Edward dragging Emmett with him.

Through the window, we watch as the anger continues to roll off Edward as he stands in Emmett's face, which is a good three inches above his own, and yells while pointing his finger.

Jasper quickly gets out of his seat to make sure nothing gets out of hand, but he's too late. Emmett smiles at Edward and swats his finger away, which instantly sends Edward over the top. He pushes Emmett backwards, hard. Really hard. Either that, or Emmett must be even more drunk than I thought, because normally he's the equivalent of a brick wall.

Emmett stumbles backwards a few steps.

He regains his balance and comes back at Edward, who lands a solid punch to Emmett's face.

Jasper is now sprinting for the door, and Alice and I are not far behind him. We arrive to find both men on the ground as they wrestle and punch each other.

Jasper grabs Edward around the chest and pulls him away; he's bleeding from his mouth, similar to Emmett, who has a bloody nose and his left eye is swollen as well.

Emmett yells, "You're lucky I took it easy on your crippled ass! Next time I won't be as gentle, you fucking dick!"

It's the first time I've ever seen Emmett angry.

I stand in front of Emmett, realizing full well that I'm the equivalent of a mouse to an elephant, as I tell him to calm down before the police get here. Being the gentle soul he is, he looks down and hugs me. "Okay, little sis. I'd do anything for you."

It's amazing. He can go from enraged to smiling again in the blink of an eye, like water off a duck's ass.

Jasper is in Edward's face trying to calm him down with his hands on his chest. I wish Edward was as reasonable. Now Alice is there in tears, as she begs Edward to please stop. This is a nightmare. Both men are bleeding all over the place, and Edward is beginning to attract a lot of attention.

Now I'm angry.

I walk over to him and smack him in the cheek just hard enough to get his attention. "Edward, you'd better calm down right now before your ass winds up in jail. Grow up, damn it!"

Jasper looks surprised at my contribution to the melee. Edward momentarily snaps out of it and stops trying to break free, but it but it doesn't last long.

His anger is now redirected at me and his wrath reemerges. "You know, it's women that have always caused all the fucking problems in my life, and I'm fucking sick of it. Why did you even come here, anyway? Just to sneak up on me, and cause fucking problems? Congratulations, you fucking succeeded!"

Edward continues to spew out profanity as Jasper is now man handling him back to his car. Jasper tells him that he should shut the fuck up if he knows what is good for him.

I can't believe Edward spoke to me like that. I don't know what I did wrong. How could he be so callous? He's the one who invited me in the first place. Why is he mad that I showed up?

I walk back to Emmett, trying to hide the tears in my eyes. I offer him a ride, knowing that Edward was his D.D. He accepts, but only if I don't cry. I shake my head and dry my tears.

Emmett yells back toward Edward, "I'll call you in the morning, asshole!" to which Edward replies with a resounding, "FUCK YOU!"

Emmett is still bleeding, and I give him some napkins from my glove compartment. I save one for the tears that continue to fall against my will.

Emmett says Rose is probably going to kick both their asses for fighting again.

The car ride to Emmett's house only takes about fifteen minutes, but it was an enlightening fifteen minutes at that.

I ask if they have ever had a fight like this in the past, and he tells me that it has happened a couple times.

"Mostly, they happen when Edward is drunk and I tease or embarrass him in front of a girl he likes. Same thing as tonight, only this time Edward landed quite a few punches. Most other times, he's the one who is usually too drunk. Damn, I'm going to feel this in the morning…

"Oh wait, there was that one time when he got in a good punch and I needed twelve stitches over my eye, but other than that…" He leans over in an exaggerated fashion and shows me the scar near his eyebrow.

I'm just shaking my head in amazement. I question him because there are a couple things I don't quite understand.

I was under the impression that Edward had been drinking also, at least a few, but Emmett tells me he only had one beer that he was nursing all night. Edward was supposed to be their designated driver and while some D.D's may think it's okay to drink in the early evening, Edward doesn't. He takes the responsiblity pretty seriously.

The other thing I question is the fact that the girl he was with was at her table when he started embarrassing Edward She couldn't hear anything that was said, so Edward could not have been humiliated in front of her.

He corrects me. "Bella, if you haven't figured it out yet, he doesn't like that girl…hell, she's just a sure thing for him. Edward is a huge fan of you and you only. He does not want to do anything that you would disapprove of. He's so mushy about you, he can barely think straight.

"Only, he's still a guy and well, you know…sometimes when it's dropped in your lap, it's hard to turn down.

"That girl is someone who he's hooked up with in the past, and she came over to him and dragged him off. He was angry with me, not only because I didn't lie to you and Alice about where he was, but because I was speaking disrespectfully in front of you. That, and the fact that he doesn't want you to know he's a horn dog and will screw anything that stands still long enough."

My eyes widen at Emmett's candor.

"Oh, and by the way, that girl's not a prostitute, I was just busting his balls in front of you all. I know, it's a pretty douchey thing to do, but hey, what can I say? I like to push his buttons, especially when I've had a couple drinks. He knows that, but I guess doing it in front of you was what set him off. He wouldn't pay for sex, hell, like I said, it just falls in his lap. I wouldn't doubt if the women pay him. Bastard!"

I'm sputtering, choking on my own saliva. I'm sure at that moment I look just as ridiculous as he does with his bloody and swollen face. I didn't know where to start dissecting his explanation.

I can't get any words out before Emmett starts talking again. "As you've seen tonight, he has a pretty big issue with that temper of his, but he doesn't mean the shit he said. Just ignore him. It's just that when he can't deal with something, he tends to lash out. Kinda like a two year old throwing a tantrum.

"When it comes to women, don't get me wrong Bella, the guy is as true blue and faithful as they come.

"I don't know if I should say anything because I don't know if he's already told you, but screw it, he was a prick tonight, so I will. He was married to a crazy bitch that put him through the ringer. Didn't let him touch her for almost a year, but he wouldn't give up on her, nor would he ever stray.

"I mean, I love Rosie to death, but if she was as crazy as his ex, or held out on me for a year, I think I would die. Probably explode from the groin outward and take her out right along with me."

I let out a strained laugh. "Yeah, he's told me about his ex-wife." That's all I can get out before he starts up again. Alcohol seems to make Emmett chatty. I'm grateful, because this information is priceless.

"How do you go a year without sex? When it comes to that shit, the guy is a saint.

"Look, Bella, I've known Edward for a while, so let me explain. This is what's gonna happen…he's gonna try to hide away from everyone because he's embarrassed, and will probably think everyone hates him for getting laid in a bar, and then starting a fight, and then blaming everything essentially on you.

"While it's a pretty good reason to hate him, he'll beat himself up over it to the point where he'll convince himself that he's worthless. He loves this self-flagellation bullshit.

"The only thing you can do, unless you want to never ever see him again, is to make the first move and go to him."

He wipes his nose and notices more blood on the tissue. Now he pinches his nose to stop the bleeding. His voice now sounds like he is fighting off a nasty head cold.

"I told him I'll call him in the morning and I will. If I don't, he would never take the first step to call me, even if he wanted to apologize. Instead, he'll think I'm gonna hate him forever, and nothing he could say would ever change my mind so he'll just sit and mope. When I call, we'll both apologize, and he'll tell me that he loves me like a brother. I guarantee it. I guess we just fight once in a while because we are both assholes, but it doesn't seem to affect our friendship for long."

I recognize the same pattern of behavior from the one episode in the hospital. He was embarrassed, assumed that I would be disgusted by him and disconnected himself from any potential grief he would feel from what he thought would be my disapproval. He protected himself, but at the same time, he was his own worst enemy.

All this explains his outburst and what to expect tomorrow, but still, I'm not thrilled at being one of the targets of his rage. And I'm not sure about Emmett's assessment that Edward is "mushy over me" either.

Emmett continues, "With you, on the other hand…well, you may have a little more difficulty."

That sounds troubling. "I don't understand. Why?"

"Well, you just saw a side of him that he wanted to keep locked away from you forever, and on top of it, he yelled at you when you did absolutely nothing wrong.

"I'll bet he's hating himself right now like he has never hated himself before.

"With you, he doesn't know what to do with himself. He adores you, Bella. He thinks you hung the moon."

Surely Emmett is wrong. Friends don't adore one another, they confide, they tease, they are there when the going gets rough and stand beside you, they even argue once in a while, but they don't adore and they don't think the other hung the moon.

Maybe I know Edward better than Emmett does about this, because he is really off base. I don't want to rub it in, so I stay quiet about his erroneous explanations.

"I know he considers you his best friend, and he shares a lot of stuff with you he would never tell me or anyone else for that matter, so you must know a side of him that I don't. I guess he shows you his emotions and me his dick. Wait a minute, that doesn't sound good at all!"

And I can't help but laugh at some of drunken Emmett's observations.

Finally un-pinching his nose, he laughs too and then continues, "You know, I helped him take a shower, damn it! That was quite enough for me thanks. I shoulda' got a medal for that shit."

"You're a good friend to him, Emmett, even if I don't understand the whole fighting part."

He takes a deep breath and goes on, "We have our moments. What I mean to say is…I've seen his darker side. He doesn't hide that from me. I also know that he wants nothing more than to settle down with a good woman, but until then, his tastes are just not as discriminating as they could be.

"Bella, I know he just wanted you to think he was nothing other than a quintessential gentleman, and he blew that out of the water spectacularly. Now that this happened, there's no telling how he'll react. But if he builds a wall to hide behind, and he will, he'll hide away forever from you unless you break it down."

We pull up to his house and he's grateful that Rose is at her mother's house until morning. Still, he asks me to wish him luck for when she gets home.

"Thanks for the advice, and I hope Rose goes easy on ya'."

He tells me one last time, "He's not perfect, but he's a good guy, Bella. Don't believe anything he said tonight. I know the little asshole loves you in his own way."

Tears gather in my eyes as I pull away from Emmett's house. On my way home, I realize through all the commotion that I don't really know how to feel about what happened tonight. I love Edward in my own way as well, but I would never decide to lash out at him. Edward can be very sweet and thoughtful, but honestly, I can do without what Emmett precisely called—his tantrums.

I thought Edward was different. I thought he wouldn't use women and throw them away like the womanizer he accused that sleazy bartender, Jason, of being. And worse yet, he blamed me for his problems.

I'm torn. Of course, he's a grown man and will want to have sex, but I just never thought that I would virtually be witness to his escapades. I wanted to be blissfully unaware that he can walk into a bar and walk out with any woman he wanted, and apparently, according to Emmett, he wants them quite frequently.

The biggest problem is that he's so quick to resort to violence and acting out. I wish he was better at controlling his temper.

I have a lot to think about, and I know it will be quite a while before my mind is able to settle back down. When I pull into the driveway shortly before midnight, the lights are on in Alice and Jasper's house and Edward's car is still there. I would love to be a fly on their wall tonight. I let them work out their latest family drama, but before I get the keys in my door, my cell phone rings. It's Alice asking me to come over for a minute. I guess I'll get to be that fly after all.

When I arrive, Edward's face is clean of blood. Esme is looking over his wounds while giving him a dressing-down him for fighting in the first place. The fact that a grown man is letting his mom take care of his boo-boos tells me that at heart, Edward is not as much of a tough guy as he tries to be. More than ever, Esme worries about him, he knows this, so he is lets her her dote.

He stays quiet as his mom, who stops only briefly to say hello to me, resumes mildly scolding her son. He doesn't acknowledge my presence—no words, no eye contact. I could have predicted that. I try not to take it personally. I know he's not mad at me' he's mad at himself.

He's cleaned up and not too much worse for wear, only a cut and swollen lip. Emmett seems to have lost this round.

Alice starts yelling at him telling him to "stop being a coward and apologize." She's like a little pit bull when she's mad.

Edward stands but still doesn't look me in the eye. His eyes are cast down toward the floor as he speaks. "Bella, I'm very sorry about tonight. I wish I could take it back, but I can't. I'll understand if you reconsider your friendship with me."

He takes his keys off the counter and walks out the door. Alice and I call his name a number of times but he does not turn around. He just says he wants to go home now.

It's not until Esme puts on her Mom voice that he takes notice. "Edward. Anthony. Cullen. You will turn around and get back in this house. Now."

His shoulders slump forward and he turns to speak to Esme. "Mom, please. I can't do this tonight. Please." I know he would never dream of disrespecting or disobeying his mother. She's a saint in his eyes.

Esme does not back down. "Edward, you can, and you will. Since you kids have me up at all hours of the night I so graciously agreed to spend here babysitting, we will accomplish something other than cleaning your face. I swear to God, I don't know if you're thirty-one or three by the way you're acting. Your daughter and your niece are much more mature than you are acting right now. Do not have me wake up the entire neighborhood while I continue to yell at you, because I will. Now get back up here and act your age."

He reluctantly turns around and looks his mother in the eyes and says, "Mom, I love you and I respect you, but I have to leave now. I just need some space, please understand. I promise, I'll call you tomorrow morning."

Esme pushes once more. "Edward…"

Now anger flashes in his eyes and his voice is so much louder and intimidating than I have ever heard before. He doesn't wait for his mom to finish her sentence before he explodes. "NO! MOM. NO! FOR GOD'S SAKE LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!"

Edward turns around once more. No one says a word. He gets in his car, slams the door and speeds away. It stays quiet for about a minute. I know they are even more surprised than I am at what just happened.

Esme looks at Alice and me and coolly says, "Well, he's grounded, and I'm going back to bed."

I could tell Esme is a little more startled at Edward's outburst than she's letting on. Alice and I chuckle at her casual comment, and we sit down at the kitchen table with Jasper.

We talk about what transpired over the past hour and come to the conclusion that Edward just continued to make the situation go from bad to worse each step of the way.

Alice asks me to give Edward another chance at our friendship. She tells me that she's certain that he didn't mean what he said, but when he feels like he's backed into a corner, sometimes he doesn't know any other way to defend himself except through angry words, or in some extreme cases, especially with Emmett, fighting.

"Edward has become an important part of my life, and I could not imagine him not being there. But at the same time, right now I'm angry, and frankly, I don't like him very much. He really surprised me with everything that happened tonight."

I know that no one is perfect. Edward came home a bit broken and with good reason, however this part of him has nothing to do with the fire. I didn't know this part of him existed. He can be so volatile and angry.

I knew he was no saint, but I did not realize his tendency toward promiscuity either. It will be difficult for me to see him without those flaws dimming the light that normally shines so brightly from him. This has changed things.

"So, you'll give him another chance?" Alice looked unsure of my intentions.

"Yes, I'll give him another chance, Alice."

"Oh, thank God. I don't know what we'd do without you Bella. You are like a lifeline for him."

Over an hour later, I am physically and emotionally exhausted. I head over to my apartment for what I know will be a fitful night of sleep, unsure about how tomorrow will play out. I'm grateful for having the day off. If not, I would have been a walking zombie by the time I clocked into work.

I check my phone—no texts, no missed calls. And so it begins…

**A/N: Another update in a few days.**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Sorry, this is yet another super long chapter, but we're finally making strides.**

**Thank you for continuing to read and review. Just a note; if you ask a question, but are signed in as a guest, I can't give you an answer. I appreciate your reviews, but you'll need to sign in for a response.**

**Remember, this is my first story and a tremendous learning experience for me. I'm all ears and open to constructive comments.**

**Kitchmill is my wonderful beta and mentor during this project, yet I still fiddle, so all mistakes are mine.**

Chapter 12

Bella

I wake up and literally jump out of bed when I look over at the clock, which reads eleven fifteen. I can't believe I slept this late. I can't remember the last time I slept past eight thirty. I'm usually a very light sleeper and typically, an internal alarm clock has me up after no more than six to seven hours of sleep, even on my days off. I must have really needed to recharge.

I check my phone—still nothing. I guess I didn't really expect a message from Edward, but I hoped for one, anyway.

I call Alice to see if she's heard from her brother. "Mom called and woke up Edward early this morning. She had him come over for breakfast. He dared not disobey Mom twice. He left about an hour ago. The first thing he asked was if you would be here. She told him that we were going to invite you, but he asked if he could just be alone with his family for now. So, sorry we had breakfast without you."

"No worries, actually, I just woke up. How was he?"

"Well, he was very apologetic and humble. He wants to talk to you but I don't think he wants an audience.

"Jasper even sat down and talked with him for a while. Jasper wouldn't really say what they talked about, but he did say that Edward knows he was wrong. He wants to do better."

I tell her that I would reach out to him later, and she's happy that I'm giving him another chance.

After a quick shower and a bite to eat, I decide to drive directly to Edward's house for a face-to-face conversation.

I pull up to his house, relieved to see his car in the driveway. I can't deny I'm nervous. I have never felt nervous of Edward before, yet another first.

I ring the doorbell and about a minute later he comes to the door dressed only in a pair of grey sweat pants, bare foot with no shirt. He's sweating, wiping his face with a small towel and looks absolutely breathtaking. His scars do not detract from his appearance. His body is sculpted where every muscle exposed to me is right out of my anatomy text book, his pants are snug enough that the brief glimpse I allow myself to take of his lower body looks just as fit, and oh my…I look away quickly before my cheeks turn color.

I'm certainly not immune to his appeal. There is no doubt in my mind that outwardly, Edward has made a full recovery. He wipes his brow with a small towel and looks a bit nervous as he invites me in.

He directs me to his living room and tells me that he'll be right back.

Back, yes indeed, his back and backside are just as perfect.

He's almost painfully handsome. No one person should look this good. He has enough good looks to spread out over ten men.

A couple minutes later he comes back with a shirt on and asks if he can get me a drink. I politely decline as he takes a bottle of water from the fridge for himself.

I apologize for interrupting his workout. It seems he was downstairs in his workout area doing a number on the heavy bag; I'm surprised by looking at Emmett's face that his fists don't hurt him too much after last night, even with gloves on. I would never say this aloud though.

However, I cut right to the chase. I find the courage to confront his behavior and no longer feel nervous. I won't allow him to have the upper hand in this.

I will call the shots here. I did nothing wrong. He owes me a real apology and I want him to know that the way he yelled at me was unacceptable.

I decide to be blunt but honest. "Edward, I came here to tell you that I still love you, you're my best friend, but you hurt me last night. What you did with that girl surprised me, in fact, I'm disgusted by it, but I realize I have no right to impose my morals onto you, so I'll leave it at that. What bothers me more is that I don't deserve to be blamed for your actions. You were wrong to yell at me, and I deserve a better apology than the one I got last night. I felt as if you didn't mean it, that the only reason you said anything at all was because your family was making you do so."

He sits down next to me and turns himself to face my way. "Bella, will you give me a few minutes uninterrupted and let me say everything that I need to say to you?"

I nod and he rubs his face roughly before speaking again. "There is no excuse for my behavior last night, any of it. I made so many mistakes, and I just had to leave before I made any more. I needed a bit of separation from everything for just a little while.

"Bella, I'm so happy you're here and willing to talk to me, but I feel that anything I can say won't prove to you that I'm worthy of your friendship. Nevertheless, I'm so grateful for another chance."

He sighs deeply before he begins again. "Please believe me when I say that I couldn't be more sorry for what I said to you. You didn't deserve that. It was completely untrue. None of it was your fault. I don't know why I said it then, except to drive you away from me. But, I don't want you to go away. It's so hard to imagine my life without you, Bella."

Nervously, he runs his hands through his hair.

"I want to be perfectly honest…my first thought was to get drunk today and not speak to anyone, because truthfully I'm beyond embarrassed. I know that wouldn't help anything so I decided to let the chips fall where they may. I do know that I'd have called you by tonight if I hadn't heard from you by then.

"The thing is, I never wanted you to see me in that type of situation. I know you would get the wrong idea. I'm sorry for being a degenerate in the first place, but I'm not a womanizer," he says while shaking his head.

"I know that girl. She called me earlier and asked where I'd been. She and I have been together a couple times, but very casually. She wanted to hook up, but I told her that I couldn't because I already had plans to go to the bar. I didn't invite her, nor did I expect her to be there, but she showed up looking for me.

"You have to know that I'd never treat a woman that way if it were up to me. I swear to you, I don't lie to get sex. I never used a woman who wasn't using me in return. I'm completely honest that I'm not interested in any kind of relationship with them, and, they know that well ahead of time. It's their choice.

"I don't play games. They know I'm not going to take them to meet my family or spend any time snuggling, but if they're okay with that, then..." He shrugs his shoulders innocently.

"The opportunity presented itself, and since I have no reason to say no, I took advantage of it."

Having him all but verify his sordid activity from last night has me sitting uncomfortably, stock still in my seat.

"I know you're so much better than that, so I don't expect you to approve, but that is the only way I can explain it. I'm sorry if what happened yesterday offended you. I never wanted you to see that."

I finally move from my statue like position, still uncomfortable but I can take a deeper breath now.

"I was angry at Emmett because I didn't want him to say anything to you or my sister, but especially you, about what I was doing. Then my sister started yelling at me, and all the while, I could see you wished that you were anywhere but there. Not to mention that Emmet made it sound like I paid a prostitute or something."

For a moment, he raises his right hand like he is being sworn in to take the stand. "I swear, Bella, I have never, nor will I ever, pay money for sex. Emmett just never shuts up, and he was a smart ass about it. I lost my temper and don't really have an excuse for it other than I know I can do better with my temper. It's never been this bad before. I don't know what's wrong with me.

"Anyway, Emmett usually winds up kicking my ass after I throw the first punch, but I wouldn't change him for the world. I don't even know why he's still my friend, but for as much as he pisses me off, I love the guy. I keep thinking one day he'll chose to never talk to me again, but he always calls the next morning. I apologize for losing my temper and he apologizes for pushing my buttons and kicking my ass and it's water under the bridge. We're as good as new. Nothing ever bothers him. I swear, I wish I could be like that. I envy him."

I'm thrilled that he isn't shutting me out like everyone, including myself, predicted. In fact, he is more forthcoming than I ever could have hoped.

He continues, "Yesterday, something inside me snapped, it was like I couldn't think straight anymore. But I have no excuse for saying all that to you—I didn't mean it. You have to know that.

"Whether you realize it or not, you always have the upper hand in our relationship, and last night I was angry at you for it. I wanted to shelter you from this, but there you were, Emmett was running his big mouth, and there you were, I lose my temper, and there you were.

"Again, I'm exposed in front of you."

I don't notice I've moved until my hand entwines with his. He looks down at where we are joined, then looks back up to my face with sad eyes.

"You just have this knack for catching me at my lowest, and I never wanted to appear to be anything but a good guy to you. Not someone who hooks up with a girl in the bathroom of a bar. Not someone that loses his temper and winds up rolling around in a parking lot with his best buddy." His eyes look into the distance as a small humorless laugh escapes him.

"Alice and my mom were pushing, and pushing, but I couldn't talk last night. I was too embarrassed, and I didn't want to talk to you in front of them. I'm still embarrassed, but you mean so much to me, I don't ever want to lose you because I'm too stubborn, and I'm not too proud to beg for you either.

"Bella, I couldn't be more sorry. I need you in my life." He brings our joined hands to his lips and sweetly kisses mine.

"I swear to you I will never do anything like that again. You don't deserve to be a witness to that kind of behavior. I'm not saying I'm not gonna want to have meaningless sex, mind you...honestly, I just don't really want any kind of long term relationship, but at least I promise to have enough dignity not to do it in a bar.

"I promise to learn to recognize some triggers that set me off, and I will try to use rational words and not my fists when I'm angry.

"I promise not to deflect my mistakes onto you. You were completely innocent. I was one hundred percent wrong.

"I promise to be a better friend and not an untamed wild animal.

"I love you, Bella. Can you find it in your heart to please forgive me?"

I look deeply into his eyes and they reveal more to me than all of his words combined. I know his apology was honest He's not a bad person, he makes mistakes and is his own worst enemy. He doesn't need any enemies. He needs a friend. I'm not his girlfriend; I'm his friend. I want to stay angry, but I won't, I can't.

"I forgive you, Edward, but just so you know, you're going to have to buy me dinner for a month to make it up to me."

He lets go of my hand quickly, only to swoop me into his strong arms and hug me soundly. He smells so good, but I could swear he was just covered in sweat. How is that possible?

I hug him back and feel my heart instantly swell for this man.

"Thank you, Bella. Thank you so much"

He certainly isn't perfect, but who amongst us can say they are?

**FL&SC**

The beginning of June finds Edward back in the hospital, but just for a brief stay. It seems that with the warmer weather, Edward caught a summertime cold. It starts out with a frequent cough that I notice one morning while talking to him on the phone.

By the time I stop by his house later that day, it seems as though it has gotten worse. Edward bought some over the counter cough syrup that didn't help much. I'm a bit worried.

I notice that he seems winded at times, but stubborn Edward is denying anything is wrong.

"I'm fine, Bella. Jeez, stop worrying so much. I'll call Dr. Caius in the morning, okay?"

I stay the night in the guest room, with the excuse that I'm too tired to drive even the few miles back to my place. He awakens before seven a.m. and sounds worse than last night. Now he has me more than worried. His cough is much more frequent, and he has a hard time catching his breath just walking up the stairs.

He leaves a message with Dr. Caius's service, and less than an hour later the doctor calls back. After reporting what has been going on for the past twenty-four hours, Dr. Caius informs Edward to go directly to the Emergency Department. He will be calling in ahead with some general orders and be there in a few hours to see how he's doing.

I speak with Carlisle, and he tells us that he will be waiting for us when we arrive.

As calmly as possible, I prepare to drive Edward to the hospital. He can't deny his difficulty breathing now. At times, he coughs so hard his face nearly turns purple. He has a hard time catching his breath in between coughing fits. He's feverish and sweating profusely.

"Maybe we should consider calling for an ambulance."

"No way, it's absolutely out of the question." He shakes his head adamantly, which only seems to make him cough again.

"Edward, be reasonable. They can treat you as soon as they get here and on the way to the hospital."

"If you don't feel comfortable driving me then I'll drive myself, but I'm not calling an ambulance."

He takes his keys to the Volvo off the hook near the door and makes his way outside.

"All right, all right. I'll drive you. Please let me have the keys, we'll take your car. I press the remote to unlock the car and run in front of him and open the passenger side door. He stops being difficult and we make our way to the hospital.

Stubborn, stubborn man.

He says he can't risk the embarrassment by calling 911. Only Edward would consider having trouble breathing an embarrassment.

When he gets to the ER, Carlisle calmly oversees his son's care. He speaks to Dr. Caius when he arrives and they discuss Edward's treatment.

Edward will be staying the night for a course of IV antibiotics, which he isn't happy about at all. He understands the need, but he's angry with himself for getting sick in the first place. He's frustrated that he's not as easily able to fight off a simple upper respiratory infection, which now has progressed pretty quickly to a mild pneumonia.

He was just getting used to feeling strong and healthy; he even had a touch of a young man's invincibility when this knocks him down a few pegs. They only thing he takes comfort in, is that there will be no need for a Foley. Typical Edward.

Two days later he's discharged and a week later he's back on his feet, as good as new and in record time. Once again, typical Edward.

By the end of June, Alice and Edward's thirty-second birthday party goes off without a hitch. It's the first time I see Edward more than a little tipsy; in fact, I would say he's flat out drunk. It worries me because I'm pretty sure he's not supposed to drink with some of the psychiatric medications he takes for his PTSD and anxiety.

I pull him off to the side and he feels the need to put his arm around me to steady himself. "Maybe you should take it easy, Edward. You're not supposed to drink like this with all the medications you're taking."

He removes his arm to pat me on the head like a puppy and smiles. "Who said I'm taking my medications?" He giggles after swaying a little too far out to the left. Once steady again, he takes another drink from the red solo cup that now has his attention again.

"Don't even joke like that, Edward. You know you have to take your medications." I try not to sound like scolding him like a child, but I fail miserably.

"Shhhhhhhh, Bella." He says with bourbon breath and one finger over his lips. "Ess okay. I have one mom, I don need another, but if you wanna spank me..." He starts laughing at himself.

"Sorry, juss kiddin'. But, Imma good boy, I take my medications—mos ada time."

In a split second his face morphs into one of irritation as he puts his cup down roughly on the first available flat surface. "They suck ya know. I hate 'em so much, I wanna shove 'em down Cope's throat and see how they make her feel. Bet she wouldn't be pushin' as many, then. Only I'm sure she gess enough kickbacks from the drug companies that she juss sees dollar signs every time an asshole like me walks in the door."

"Relax, Edward. Calm down. I don't want to get you upset, I just wanted to make sure you're okay."

His face unwinds and he even manages a lopsided grin. "Yeah, I'm okay s'long as you're here. You're like a little sister to me, one that's less annoying than the one I already have. Imma protect you like a big brother too." He puts both arms around me and squeezes me tightly again. I've lost track on how many times he's hugged me tonight.

It seems that Edward's generous supply of hugs is directly proportional to the number of shots he's consumed. When he's sober, he avoids touching me like the plague, but throw some Wild Turkey down his throat and he has his arms around me half the night.

Later, Angela takes me aside and in an astonished whisper, she says, "Bella, what's going on with you and Edward?"

"What? Oh with the hugging. Nothing's going on, Ang. You know we're just friends."

"That's not how it looks from my end, sweetheart." She puts her arm around me like a dishonest used car salesman and tries to sell me her bill of goods.

"He is soooo into you, how could you not see it?" she says with wide eyes.

Apparently she missed his earlier, drunken declaration that I am like the little sister he always wished he had.

"I assure you, this is unusual. It's because he's drinking. Our relationship is kind of difficult to explain…just, believe me when I tell you, it is not romantic. He would never see me that way. I'm only his friend, sister, maybe."

"He didn't get a girlfriend recently, did he?" She asks as she tips back her beer, awaiting my answer.

"Well, no. Not really."

"What do you mean not really?"

I really don't want to have this conversation. I scratch my head nervously and the words fly out of my mouth quicker than an auctioneer, "He just has sex then moves on."

"Really? Huh. I never knew he was such an asshole. How could you accept him just using women, then throwing them aside?"

I shake my head from side to side. "No, Ang. I made it sound worse than it is. Yes he's had a couple one night stands in the past few months. Maybe more than a couple…I'm not sure. But, he says the women know exactly what it is and he doesn't ever lie to them to get sex. I believe him. He says they use him as well, I guess he's fine with it."

She shakes her head. "Gah! Men are so disgusting. But, I'll bet one of them will be his next girlfriend."

My stomach flips even more when she mentions that Edward could potentially fall for one of those women. Before I realize I'm doing it, I'm defending him again. "No, no way, he assures me he doesn't want a serious girlfriend."

She smiles at me like she would an innocent little child who just told her a story about Santa, "Bella, he'll only say that until he meets the right one."

She's wrong. She doesn't know Edward like I do.

"Whatever, Ang. All I know is that I'm his friend, not his girlfriend."

"Too bad. You guys are like star crossed lovers or something. You two would make a really cute couple if you were into guys and he wasn't into woman soooo much."

"Yeah, right?" was all I could squeak out.

I think the more Angela drinks, the more extensive her fantasies become. Thankfully, she drops the subject.

I'm pretty sure Edward is under the impression that I would never date a man, but even if he knew otherwise, he would never consider me as anything other than a friend. I've seen a couple of the girls he was interested in and a picture of his ex-wife. They are all so beautiful. I'm far too plain for a man like him. Not only that, but I don't think I want to date another man anyway.

Meanwhile, Esme and Carlisle never looked happier. They have a second chance with their son and they won't let that slip away. They still give me far too much credit for their miracle, but I accept their compliment, even if I don't feel worthy of it.

It is so good to see his family mended and stronger than ever. Edward is thriving as well.

Edward has been back to work on a regular, full time basis for a while now. Each week he works one double shift, which is twenty-four hours, as well as another twelve hour shift to make a thirty-six hour week.

Like the fire house, there are bunk rooms at his quarters. If they are not busy, he can rest while working through the night on his double, but he has to be out the door, moving to the aircraft in no more than a minute or so when they get an assignment.

I can tell he loves being back to work and feeling useful again.

He tells me that he has a better appreciation of what some of his patients may be going through because of their injuries and what they'll have to endure. Because of this, his job has become even more important to him.

In addition to his job, he's now collecting a regular check from the city for his forced retirement and disability. With both incomes, he's no longer worried about his finances as much.

Everyone's home life has settled down and is back to normal.

Kate spends a lot of time with Edward, although Tanya is considered her primary caretaker. He's never had the "every other weekend and Wednesday" kind of custody agreement. It's tailored around his job and the arrangement is very flexible.

Between Edward, Tanya and her grandparents, Kate has three loving homes. She and her dog Maverick, a one hundred pound German Shepherd that she and Edward picked out of a shelter a couple years ago as a puppy, are inseparable. Where Kate goes, Maverick is close behind. All three homes are set up with everything a girl and her dog could need.

She's also very close to her cousin Jane, so she frequently has sleepovers at Alice and Jasper's house. Kate's such a great kid, and she knows how much she's loved, no matter where she hangs her hat at night.

Recently, she was accepted into a school for gifted and talented students, after she was recommended by her teachers. It will be a pretty big expense that Edward will bear the brunt of, but he would never deny his child anything.

The school is about thirty minutes from Edward's house. Luckily, bus service is available, but not covered in the cost of tuition. It's an added expense. All this is tax deductible, but it is still a considerable amount of money.

Carlisle and Esme offered to pay some of the expenses, but Edward is too proud and too stubborn to allow it. He assures them he can manage without too much of an impact, but I know he'll now take more overtime to assure that he never has to live paycheck to paycheck, which is one of his biggest fears. But with all the extra shifts, it means spending less time with his daughter. So stubborn.

He once confided in me that he promised himself he would work as hard as was necessary to avoid having any financial problems he would have to admit to his family. I suppose he thinks that most likely, those problems wouldn't be an issue if he'd just listened to his father and become a doctor like every other Cullen.

Edward is also living up to the promises that he made me after that horrific night earlier this year. He has since never picked up random women in my presence. While I have to come to accept that Edward has no intention of going into the priesthood. At least whatever's going on isn't directly in front of me, but yet I'm pretty sure that he doesn't go too long without sex.

He doesn't tell me much, even if I push, but I suppose I'm better off not knowing. I try to play it cool in front of him, teasing him about being a lothario, which he takes in stride.

I've tried to identify my feelings on the subject, but lately, within the past month or so, I've started feeling a little sick each time he goes out on another date with some girl I've never met.

I know at least part of what I feel is envy. I'm not envious that he wants a meaningless interaction with them, but rather that they know a side of him that I don't; sex, passion lust and mostly, intimacy.

I don't know what to think about my latest epiphany.

Emmett certainly doesn't feel miserable when he finds out that Edward is not going out with us because he has a date instead, but yet I do.

Lately, I have preferred to be in relationships with women—not men, although I don't seem to have much luck with either gender.

I guess I've just been burned enough that I think that once you're involved with a man, he becomes untrustworthy and manipulative. He knows he has power over you and he shoves it in your face to control you. I never want to be in a relationship like that ever again.

If I pull back a bit and think about it, however, I know that a woman could be just as capable of accomplishing this as any man; the only difference to me is that I feel that most men are prone to this behavior, whereas I believe women are not.

I know I've always fought against thinking of Edward as anything other than a friend…a very attractive friend.

Friends are safe. Friends usually don't hurt each other in ways that cannot be mended or ruin you for future friendships. Friends don't break your heart or crush your soul. They help mend your battered spirit from others who do.

Somewhere deep inside, I'm becoming confused about my feelings toward Edward, but I try valiantly to subdue them. Even to myself. When he's out with other women is when those feelings are definitely brought to the surface. Those nights I feel a bit distracted and uneasy, unable to find much respite until the next day.

I've never made Edward feel guilty or act like he should be ashamed about his dates. Unfortunately, I think it'll only be a matter of time before that happens. Somehow, I have to figure out a way to feel less rejected and abandoned, and try to just be his buddy—like Emmett.

I tend to blame this surge in unusual feelings on the fact that I have not had sex in eons. This bothers me somewhat, but I'm not the type of person, like Edward, to be comfortable with a one night stand. To me masturbation works just as well.

I want sex for the human factor, the intimacy, not only for an orgasm or two. On the other hand, I don't want anything superficial. It's where Edward and I are polar opposites.

The problem is, I'm sure that if Edward was to find himself in the middle of a serious relationship, our friendship may suffer. The same would probably hold true for me, and that is frightening. It is probably not realistic to think that mine and Edward's friendship will be able to withstand the test of time unchanged.

Angela may have a point. I'm sure that his plan of prohibiting a serious relationship could eventually backfire. He could eventually meet a girl that will make him think twice. In fact it's only a matter of time.

Since I have no control over the future, I decide to make a promise to live my life one day at a time and enjoy what I have, when I have it.

**FL&SC**

Alice, Jasper, Rose, Emmett, Edward and I have been getting together at the pub once a week for the past few months, since the beginning of the summer. It's usually a Friday or Saturday evening, depending on which days Edward and I are off from work. It's become somewhat of a ritual. I've learned to play both pool and darts. In fact, I've become quite good at darts, especially.

Often, Angela and Ben will join us. They come out for an occasional distraction from the craziness of wedding planning. Alice thrives on parties, weddings and shopping, so Angela has found herself a planning partner. Alice is just tickled about helping. I swear if she wasn't such a successful pediatrician, I would think she missed her calling as an events planner.

Tonight we are supposed to all get together, and I'm looking forward to spending time with everyone, but right now I'm bored. The apartment is clean, the laundry done and I'm in the middle of a mediocre romance novel.

My appointment to get my hair and nails done isn't until three thirty. I wanted to get it cut and maybe add some subtle highlights for Angela's wedding next weekend. I'm a bridesmaid, and it will be the first time I've ever been in a wedding party. I'm so excited. My dress, along with all the accessories, is all ready to go.

Angela also asked Alice to be in her wedding party for all the help she has provided. Rose and Emmett were invited to the wedding, as she and Ben have become a part of our little group. It should be a great time. In order to even out the wedding party, Edward was asked to be a groomsman as well. He'll be paired with his sister.

I didn't want to risk him taking some easy bimbo to the hotel where the wedding will be. With the way I've been feeling lately, I think that would ruin my entire weekend, so I asked if he would be my date. I really don't know what is happening to me, but as irrational as it may be, Edward initially laughed at my proposal, but said yes. I suppose you could chalk this up to irrational jealousy of a woman I haven't even met. Somehow I have to get these feelings under control, it's just going to have to wait until after the wedding.

As crazy as it sounds, both Angela's bachelorette party and Ben's bachelor party are set for next Friday—the day before the wedding. She booked a block of rooms for her guests at the hotel where the reception will be, and we all are checking in a day early for the pre-wedding festivities. It is going to be a great time.

Her wedding will be September ninth. My twenty-seventh birthday is four days later.

I hate my birthday. It only serves to remind me that I'm still just treading water. Maybe one year, I'll feel as if I can lap the pool—this is not that year. But, with all the distractions going on during this time, maybe it won't be so bad.

A couple weeks after that will be Edward's one year anniversary of the fire. I don't know if he'll think that this is something that should be celebrated, although I know that Alice and Esme already have plans for a get-together well under way. I just have to remember never to let them know when my birthday is; they look for any reason to have a party.

I text Edward and we decide to meet up for a quick lunch. I know he had to go into work for a recurrency training class this morning. The class is just four hours long and will be over by twelve.

Edward suggests that since it is such a beautiful day, I should come to his place and he'll fire up the grill. We can sit on the deck with a couple of burgers. Of course, they will be turkey burgers, but I've long since gotten used to Edward's healthy inclinations. In fact, I've found myself going to the gym regularly and eating healthier myself. I feel so much better. I have a confidence that I have never had before, and I have noticed a distinct change in my body. I'm no longer scrawny, but in some areas I notice I'm strong and defined but yet still soft, in a good way, like a woman should be.

Edward's proud of me, and I feel pretty proud of myself, too.

I arrive at Edward's house by one o'clock. I leave my car and walk around to the back yard and I see him outside fiddling with the grill. He gives me a huge smile, and the happiness I see in his eyes is undoubtedly genuine.

I love this guy. He can make me feel like a million bucks with just a smile.

He hands me a glass of white wine with a couple ice cubes. Just the way I like it. Obviously, I've never been a wine snob. I'm okay with that.

He puts the food on the grill and sits down next to me with his iced tea. As usual, the conversation flows from humorous to serious, back to humorous again. It seems like Edward and I are never at a loss for things to talk about.

As we begin to eat, I ask Edward if he wants me to pick him up to go to the pub tonight, and the happy look on his face fades noticeably. "Oh, I thought I told you. I'm not going to be there tonight. I have a date."

My stomach drops to my feet. It's a struggle for my face to remain neutral at the news.

I try to sound as casual as possible. "Oh, okay. I guess I'll go straight there then. I don't remember you mentioning anything about it. Another new girl? Man, you're good."

Other than the slight initial change in his demeanor, Edward does not appear uncomfortable with my question. "No, actually it is the same girl that I've been seeing for the past couple weeks. I think I mentioned her once before. Her name is Kate. And before you say anything, yes, believe me, I hate that she has the same name as my daughter. I'd never be able to say her name during sex."

I feel the blush reach my face which is belying the fact that inside, I feel as if I could vomit. Apparently I'm a glutton for punishment because without thinking I blurt out, "You do a lot of talking during sex?"

He smiles, tilts his head and says, "You don't?"

Now I feel a bit self-conscious. "Well, not usually. I guess…I guess I've just never felt compelled to do that."

He laughs a bit and says, "You should try it Swan. You may find it fun. Wait, like…not at all? Not even to have God take notice of your approval?"

I'm somewhat confused by his question. He notices and enlightens me. "Uh, you know…" In a loud, breathy feminine voice he proclaims, "Oh God—Oh God! Yes! YEEESSSS!"

We both laugh a bit to ease the tension, and I never answer his question. I need to address a much more worrisome topic. "So this is getting pretty serious, huh?"

Edward shakes his head, his face giving nothing away. "No, no. Nothing like that. I told you, I don't do serious. She's just a tough nut to crack. I just want a little return on my investment."

I'm a bit put off at his comment. "You are a cad, do you know that?"

"Bella, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. It was rude. But, you know I don't want anything serious. I'm not getting attached to her, believe me."

I sigh. "Edward, you know you're going to have this whole plan boomerang on you one day. It's entirely possible that a girl will capture your heart whether you want her to or not."

Edward looks me in the eyes and says, "Nope, never happen."

He's too confident. "How can you be so sure?"

Without missing a beat, he says, "I'm so sure because none of them can ever hold a candle to you."

My universe comes to a screeching halt. I'm caught off guard by his statement.

He continues, "It'll never happen because I know if it does, eventually she would have a say in everything I do, and I know that one of the first things she would attempt to modify is my relationship with you. That would be completely unacceptable.

"I'm not stupid, Bella. I won't allow someone to come between us. You mean too much to me."

I feel the tears start to fill my eyes as this very predicament has been on my mind lately. I want so much to hug him.

From one moment to the next he goes from exasperating to incredibly thoughtful and sweet, but at the same time, he's not being realistic. "Edward, you can't go through the rest of your life going from one meaningless relationship to the next. You'd die a lonely old man."

"I wouldn't be lonely because I'd have you. You see, I've got a plan. You and me are gonna grow old together."

I don't know what my expression is because next he says, "And don't even give me that look, Swan—it's true."

He takes a deep breath and continues. "You give me everything I need in a relationship except sex, and I'll just get that from other random women. As I get older, when my libido is more manageable, we're going to move down to Florida to retire in a nice, little old-person's village.

"This way we can catch all the early bird dinner specials at Denny's while wearing socks with our sandals and white patent leather accessories. Come on, Swan, give it up. You know you want to."

I laugh because he remembered how I used to describe him as an old man when he had a hard time staying awake past eight o'clock while he was still recovering.

He goes on, "Anyway, I know this is gonna happen because Alice told me."

I'm more confused than ever. "What do you mean, Alice told you? She told you that we should live in a retirement village in Florida?"

He explains, "No, no, forget the retirement village part. I added that. Didn't Alice or me ever explain this?"

I shake my head no. I'm still confused, and my mind is too busy trying to figure out what he could possibly mean to answer his question verbally.

"Well, don't think I'm crazy, but Alice seems to have this gift. It's kind of weird and you may not believe me, but I swear she's never been wrong before. I call it her 'super twin power.' She calls it a gut feeling.

"You see, she can predict my future…well no, not exactly. It's hard to explain. It's kinda' like she has a special awareness of my connections to people. It only works with me, her twin. She also has a kind of sixth sense about her connections to people as well.

"Did you know that she told me a few minutes after she met Jasper that she would marry him? Obviously, she was right. It's kinda creepy actually, but she hasn't been wrong yet."

Huh. "Wow, uh no, this is the first I've heard of any of this."

"Okay, here's an example. Before I started dating my ex-wife, she said that I would be married young and have a child with a different woman and she was right. She also said my marriage would not last more than a couple years. Again, she was right.

"Well, she recently told me that you were the one. The girl I would grow old with. I laughed in her face and reminded her that you're gay, but I know better than to doubt her, so I think the whole idea of the retirement village in Florida is the way it will happen.

"You see, you and me are destined for each other. Just ask Alice. I figure by then, I'll be old and grey with nothing going on anymore below my belt, so you'd be okay with this."

After that overwhelming revelation, I don't know what to say and naturally proceed to say something stupid and irrelevant.

"Edward, even old people have sex. They have pills for that nowadays."

He smiles and says, "All right then. Maybe I'll marry you when you're too senile to object, so when I'm feeling frisky and pop a Viagra, you'll just think I'm tickling you again. I'd be okay with that, too."

I can't contain my laughter, half because he's crazy, and the other half due to profound anxiety.

I smack him in the arm playfully as a much needed distraction, because my insides feel like they have just been put in a blender set to frappe—they're all mixed up. No one has ever made me feel this way before. Are these feelings normal for friends? I don't know what to think anymore.

Obviously, he's not too comfortable with the topic either and is attempting to disguise it with humor.

I can't imagine the expression on my face. It may be one of fear, one of hope, or one of nausea…I can't be sure. Either way I need to play it cool.

"I didn't know your sister has this gift.

"You know, I saw a TV show once on these amazing connections between twins. Like, where one twin gets hurt and the other one knows and feels it too, even though they're miles apart. All kinds of crazy stuff like that. So I guess it's possible that Alice has a special connection to you. But WOW, you and me growing old together? Like together-together? I think she must have hit her head or something. She should probably get that checked out soon. Or maybe she needs to sit on Jasper's couch for a while after a doozy of a revelation like that.

"That is really pretty gross Edward, you're like a brother to me. It would be like incest. It should be against the law. Yeee-uck!"

I think I went overboard with my aversion to the idea. As it was spewing forth from my mouth, I realized it was too much, but I just couldn't stop myself. Damn it!

Against the law? Really? And did I actually just describe being intimate with Edward by using the word yeee-uck? Not just yuck, no, yeee-uck. Great.

He smiles weakly. "Thanks. You really know how to make a guy feel special, Swan.

"I'll remember that one day when you need to marry me for my medical benefits because you need that hip replacement surgery. I'll have the last laugh then, gimpy.

"And FYI, she didn't specify whether or not we were married, be it genuine or some other kind of deceitful misrepresentation for insurance benefits. I didn't ask.

"But now, I promise, I'll never ask you to marry me because you certainly seem sufficiently disgusted at the idea. I swear to you, I won't so much as touch you in an impure way, so you have nothing to worry about."

A wicked little smirk shows up on his face. "I even promise stop thinking about you when I'm in the shower." I gasp in a horrified breath. "…KIDDING! I'M KIDDING!"

As I start laughing, he mumbles something like, "I was kidding—I won't stop thinking about you then." He says it just loud enough for me to hear. We both start laughing at his crude comments as I'm swatting at him relentlessly and he effectively blocks each tap.

I guess he didn't miss my attempt to lighten the topic by overcompensating, so he did it too. But hell, I acted like the thought of it disgusted me. Although I have never allowed myself to think about Edward that way for more than a scant few moments here and there, it certainly does not disgust me.

He was joking with me, but I could tell he was just a bit hurt.

Damn, if he said the word yee-uck about being intimate with me, it would have sent any progress I have made with my ego back to the Stone Age.

"I was just kidding Edward; I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. That whole thing about Alice just caught me off guard. Any woman would be fortunate to have you. You know I love you."

"Yeah, yeah. I've heard that before. Women, you just can't trust 'em." He says with a bright smile back on his face.

"You can't trust women? I beg to differ. Men are typically the untrustworthy types. If it weren't for propagation of the species, what would a woman need a man for?"

Edward smiles and says, "Duh, opening pickle jars. Don't they teach you women anything in school? That and…some women actually enjoy the company of a man, you know."

We seem to be back on track, so I think I'll go in for the kill. "That's what a latex replica is for, silly. Preferably one with batteries. Every woman should have at least one."

He seems shocked by my boldness and proceeds to play it up with his first two sentences in a southern woman's voice. "Isabella Marie Swan! My delicate sensibilities!

"But, wait, really, you have one? Tell me more. Did you name it BOB? How often do you use it? What color is it? Does it glow in the dark? Does it vibrate also? You know, I never understood the whole vibrator option anyway. It's not good for you, by the way. I heard you can become addicted to it. Oh God there is so much I need to know…does that mean you're not a virgin? Can I buy you one? How long is it? Does it come with a…"

I laugh at his energetic rant and proceed to cut him off so he could take a breath. I decide not to address the virgin question. I think back quickly and realize he must think I've never been in a hetero relationship. I never told Edward that I have had quite a few boyfriends when I was a bit younger. Nor have I told him about some of the nightmarish relationships I've been in with men that would make what Jessica and I had seem flawless.

I'll have to make a point to correct him at a later date when we have more time to discuss everything. "Edward, I won't divulge these closely guarded womanly secrets."

"Comme onnnnnnn, Bellllllaaaa! I haven't even gotten to the important questions yet! This is a potential gold mine of crucial information. In return you can ask me anything, I promise to answer. Pleeeeeease. You have to tell me. It's a best friend requirement. Duh, didn't you know that?

"You know I'm going to be distracted by this for the distant, foreseeable future, don't you? You can't just tell me that you, of all people, use one of those things and not go on to provide any details.

"Wait! I got it! I have a great idea! I can just watch you then!"

Now I'm shocked by his boldness. On a couple of occasions, we have teased each other about sex, but we have never ventured into this kind of bantering before.

"No, Edward, you are not going to watch. Now stop being a pervert. This is the very reason why women own these devices. They get the job done without all this blathering. In fact, I'm sure your date tonight is having a quick work out with hers before you pick her up." I pat myself on the back after that snide diversionary comment.

That took the wind out of his sails.

With half a smile and a chuckle he says, "You wound me, Bella."

Then in the next breath his smile is gone, replaced by a look I have never seen on him before. His eyes seem darker, his expression dangerous, erotic. "I just want to make sure that you're well aware that I know how to please a woman much better than any piece of plastic. When a woman and I come together, I'm able to read her body more precisely each time, noticing how she responds to my touch and revising accordingly. I take pride in my attention to detail. Before long, I know her body better than she does. This opens the door to more intense proceedings...just in case you were wondering."

Oh my!

I have just witnessed a sexually confident and authoritative Edward.

Did it suddenly become unbearably hot out here, or is it me? The temperature just went from warm to scorching all of a sudden.

I have nothing to say to that...in fact I don't think I could speak now even if I wanted to. I think I should stop staring at him with my mouth open though.

Come on, Bella, say something. Please, brain, work already.

Too late, Edward beats me to it while I sit there gaping at him like a fish out of water. "Oh, and by the way, I don't like you anymore. Pfftt."

He blows me raspberries and manages to break the tension. The mood is lightened instantly.

At this point my face must be absolutely crimson. I feel a bit overheated, and trying to convince myself that it's from a random solar flare isn't working either.

Edward asks if I'd like another glass of wine. I'm tempted to tell him to skip the wine and get me a double of bourbon at this point. Nevertheless, I decline because I have to drive and I'm already feeling lightheaded due to the conversation.

I look at my watch and it is already five minutes past three. I have to leave soon so I won't be late for my salon appointment.

I tell Edward that I have to go, and he casually lets me know that he would like to get together tomorrow afternoon. I agree.

With that, my brain sees fit to remind me that he'll be out enjoying the company of a stranger soon. Most likely he'll be getting that return on his investment, and it's getting the best of me.

In an instant, I went from flustered to barely keeping it together.

I have to leave. Quickly.

I practically sprint to my car and speed away. Before I get to the end of Edward's cul de sac to the main road, the tears have begun to stain my cheeks even though I try to hold them back.

What the hell is going on with me? I don't want him, but I don't want anyone else to have him either? Is that it?

The phone rings not two minutes later, and it is Edward. I almost decide to let it go to voice mail because I can't be sure how clear my voice will be, but I clear my throat and my mind quickly to answer.

"Bella, are you okay?"

I decide to play stupid. "I'm fine Edward, why?"

"Really? You're fine? Okay, phew! It was just my imagination then. It's just that when you left, you were in such a hurry and you didn't look so good. You looked like you were going to cry or something. I just want to make sure you're not upset with me."

"No! I'm fine. Everything's fine. I promise." I'm lying through my teeth.

I don't lie. Why am I lying? Oh yes, that's right, I don't know what the hell is happening to me, that's why!

"Look ,Bella. I want to apologize anyway. I was way out of line this whole afternoon. I mean, you and I are not quite as uncivilized toward each other as say, me and Emmet, but we don't usually have to censor anything either.

"Even so, I don't want to say anything disrespectful, and if I offended you, I'm sorry. Sometimes I forget where to draw the line.

"I shouldn't have harassed you like I did when you mentioned the vibrator. I acted as if I was half my age.

"Also, you didn't need to listen to me spouting any testosterone filled male bravado bull shit either. I hope I didn't make you feel uncomfortable."

"Don't worry, everything is fine."

I decide to change the subject before he recognizes that I'm lying.

"Oh, I forgot to ask if you wanted to drive to the hotel together next Friday. Our check-in time is at three and we can start our respective debauchery any time after that. Angela rented a car service for us. I think there are more guys partying than girls, so you guys are getting a bus instead. There are only seven girls and we will all fit in a limo. Either way, I think it's going to be a lot of fun. Best of all, I love my bridesmaid dress. It breaks the mandatory hideous bridesmaid dress requirement with a vengeance, it's so pretty. All thanks to your sister, of course. She's a genius. I have to ask to look at her wedding album, I'm sure she had the quintessential dream wedding."

Oh, shit. I hope I didn't overcompensate again.

"Uh…yeah. I guess we could drive in together.

"Hey, are you sure you're okay? You seem like you're desperately trying to distract me from my apology."

Damn, he caught that. He fell for the first couple of "I'm fines" so easily. I shouldn't have pressed my luck.

"No, no, not at all. Thank you for taking my feelings into consideration but really I'm fff...everything is great, Edward. No worries." That was close I almost dropped another "fine" in there.

"All right then. I guess I'll see you tomorrow. Come over for lunch at like twelve o'clock. I'll cook. We'll hang out. Bring a swim suit for the hot tub. Then we'll go to Mom's house for dinner.

"Kate doesn't have anything going on tomorrow so Tanya is dropping her off here at around three, so she'll be joining us, okay?"

"That sounds great. I haven't seen Kate in almost two weeks. You're spoiling me, Edward, you know that?" A smile returns to my face.

"Yeah, you're just lucky I love ya', kid."

"Don't I know it. See you tomorrow."

We say our goodbyes, and for a moment I feel lighter. Almost like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders…and for that split second, I don't remember that was miserable, just minutes prior.

My moment of serenity is all too brief, and the weight comes crashing right back down as I remember Edward's promising date tonight. This time, I fight against the turmoil within and forbid anymore tears from falling.

I decide that I'm going to stay home tonight. I'm not going to be very good company.

I'm going to go home and once and for all figure out what has me all confused and what to do about it. Avoidance has gotten me nowhere, and it's time that I do some soul searching.

Just before I arrive at the spa, I leave a message with Angela that I'm not feeling well and won't be joining everyone tonight. I also ask if she could pass the message on to Rose and Alice.

I dare not call anyone else, they'll see right through me. Angela is too distracted with everything that's going on that she is my safest choice.

I have a feeling it will be a long night.

I'm home from my appointment by six. My hair is cut about two inches shorter and the layers are shortened up, giving it a lot more body. Lighter auburn highlights that enhance my natural mahogany highlights frame my face, and even I think the end result is fantastic. This has to be the best result I've had from a trip to the salon ever. I got a mani-pedi and a facial as well. I would have gotten the massage, but they close at five thirty on a Saturdays and there wasn't enough time. All this pampering and a great haircut should make me happy; instead it is merely a momentary distraction as I watch the minutes tick by on the clock.

These feelings I'm having are nothing but self-destructive. I've never really had too much of a problem with Edward and his dates before. What's changed? Am I only afraid of Edward getting serious with a woman and it in turn changing our friendship? Or am I beginning to have feelings of more than friendship for Edward? Maybe it is just plain jealousy. This anonymous woman will have him tonight in a way I will never know. I have always found him incredibly attractive, and when he is with me, I just feel special. Other women look at me and want what they think I have, only they don't know the truth. Edward never really pays them any attention when he's with me. He's too much of a gentleman for that, but little do they know, if it wasn't for my presence, they could very well get lucky.

I think back on our conversation today and recall what Edward said about Alice and her predictions. I think it is amusing, but how can I take that seriously?

No one can see the future. Yeah, she knows him. They're twins for goodness sake and have that kind of connection, but ultimately she just got lucky with some of her past guesses. That's my feelings on it, anyway.

Two hours have passed and it feels more like ten. Time seems like it is standing still.

I have no appetite, yet I look in the fridge to see if I might change my mind.

I regret not stopping at the liquor store. I really don't have the ambition to do so now. Nor do I have the desire to cave to Alice's and Rose's texts and voicemail telling me to get my butt out there to the pub for a drink—one that will cure what's ailing me, as Emmett suggested via text.

I refuse to answer my phone, and I realize I'll have to feign having a serious stomach virus tomorrow if I'm to get away with ignoring their calls unscathed.

My phone rings again, and I look to see if it is Rose or Alice. Surprisingly it is neither.

The call is from Edward.

I answer on the first ring. "Hello?"

Damn, I should have waited until the fourth, at least!

"Bella…Hey, Alice texted me and said you didn't make it out with everyone tonight because you're sick. What's going on? Are you okay?"

"Hey, Edward, yeah, no worries. I just wasn't feeling too good tonight and decided to stay home. I just have a headache." I altered my ailment for Edward because if I said I was sick to my stomach I'm sure he would have assumed that he'd given me food poisoning with lunch.

"Oh, okay, because Alice is assuming that somehow this is my fault, and she's yelling at me for some reason.

"Why aren't you answering their phone calls? They're worried."

"Oh, my phone was dead for a while and I shut it down to charge it. They must have called then." The lies are just spewing out of me. What the hell is going on here? It may be a lousy lie, but I think at this rate, I'll be a pro soon.

"Well, you can probably expect a drunken visit from my sister tonight. Probably sooner rather than later. You'd better call her soon so that she doesn't use a battering ram on your front door."

"Okay, I'll call as soon as I hang up with you. Hey, aren't you busy with your date?"

Now, why would I ask such a question? It must be my subconscious mind punishing myself for lying so frequently.

"Well, I was working on it, but my sister was rather insistent that I call you because she's sure that you're purposely ignoring her and I'm the only one that you would pick up for. I told her there had to be another reason. There are plenty of times I don't want to talk to her annoying ass too, but she wouldn't listen.

"Anyway, my date thinks I had to go to the bathroom, and since I've been in here for a year and a half talking to you and Alice, by now she probably thinks I have some unfortunate problem with my bowels. So yeah, thanks for that, Swan."

Even now when I'm feeling so low, it's his voice that makes me laugh, his voice that I look forward to hearing, his voice that makes me feel so alive.

One side of me wants to pretend like this isn't bothering me and tell Edward not to worry about me, that I'm fine and to wish him luck with his date. But, the only thing that would accomplish is to make me end up feeling sorry for myself and cry that much harder.

The other side of me wants to tell him to break it off with his date right now. Not tomorrow, not next week, immediately, then come over to my apartment so I can just see him. I want to have him put his arms around me, hold me and tell me that he loves me again.

I realize I'm drowning. I'm no longer treading water—I'm drowning.

I can't take this. I'm so confused. How unfair would it be for me to request that he abandon his date? Yet, that is exactly what I want to do. So much.

The worst part about it is that I'm one hundred percent sure if I asked him, he'd do it, regardless of the reason. I know he'd do it just for me. Because I needed him.

There is a long pause in my response, but I finally manage a chuckle.

Suddenly, I notice how strange it seems to other people when you laugh a couple seconds too late.

They don't know that you were planning your next response, going over potential consequences and weighing each option carefully.

They only hear that you laughed three seconds too slow.

It concerns Edward. "Bella, come on, what's wrong? Talk to me? Pleeeease.

"I'm sorry about this afternoon. Please forgive me. I swear I'll never disrespect you again. Please, Bella. I wish I could take back all that nonsense. I was acting like an immature little prick, and then like an arrogant jerk. Please?

"If that stuff I told you Alice said is upsetting you, look, don't worry okay?

"Who knows, she may have hit her head and I'm the one who needs some time on Jasper's couch because I tend to believe her. It's nothing. I promise I won't ever rope you into marrying me. Okay? Please? Okay?"

I can't let him feel guilty over this. "Edward, oh my God, no! Please don't think that I don't feel well over something you said this afternoon, please. I just wasn't in the mood to go out tonight. So I thought I would just spend a nice quiet night with myself. No big deal."

"So you're sure you're not mad at me for acting like a teenage boy with overactive hormones?"

"I'm sure."

Edward seems like he's trying to stifle a giggle. "And did you just say, and I quote, 'I just want to spend a nice quiet night with myself.' End quote?"

"Yep, that is exactly what I said." What is he getting at?

"Okay, so then remember that statement when I ask you one last question...okay? Ready?—Oh, and remember, you said it AND you're not mad at me—so here goes…

"…Is your vibrator named 'myself'? HA HA HA HAHAHA. Get it? 'Spend a nice quiet night with myself'? You don't talk during sex? Oh damn, I crack myself up, AHAHAHAH! I just said 'myself 'again! OH GAAAHD HAHAHAH!"

He's legitimately cracking up over his own sophomoric humor.

Well, right there is the proof that boys will be boys!

I have to admit though, he is pretty cute and I give in and giggle a bit. It makes me feel so special that he takes the time out of his date to talk with me and make me feel better. He never made me feel like he was rushing to get rid of me or that my feelings were irrelevant. I know he truly cares about me, and that he does love me.

I decide to put on my big girl panties and tell him that I'm fine and to get back to his date. It will kill me, but it is not fair for me to feel this way.

I'll never be able to follow through, but I can't prevent him from doing so with anyone else either.

He finally manages to stop laughing at his own joke and tells me that he hopes I feel better and he'll see me tomorrow.

Although I'm smiling because I can't resist it—that's just what he does to me—at the same time I feel an ache in my chest and tears in my eyes before I hang up the phone.

And my long night officially begins—now.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: I have a feeling some of you are going to lynch me soon. But just remember, each chapter is one step closer.**

**Believe me, I want to give it to you now, but I just can't.**

**Kitchmill is my beta and has helped me immeasurably, but yet I am responsible for putting more mistakes onto this page than she would have ever allowed.**

Chapter 13

Bella

My tired eyes squint open. I'm prematurely awoken by the brightness of a sunny day streaming through my windows. I'm shocked to see that it is almost ten a.m. I slept in again. Well, I really wouldn't call it sleep. It was more like I tossed and turned in again.

I think back on last night's revelations.

It was a rough night. I tried to distract myself with some TV, which held my attention for intermittent brief periods. My thoughts vacillated between feeling sorry for myself and loathing that I've become this pathetic weak person.

The TV went off and I decided to take a hot bubble bath. I used every ounce of energy my body could muster, and I indulged in candles, scented oils and music.

I settled into the tub for a relaxing soak to clear my mind and think about my relationship with Edward. Why has it become so difficult for me, and what could I do to fix it?

Each time he's with another woman I fell increasingly tormented. It seems to be getting exponentially worse. Honestly, if I think about it, it's as if I want him all to myself. I was being selfish. I don't want another woman to be worthy of his affections even if those affections are merely superficial.

I had a lot of soul searching to do.

The first thing I had to accomplish was I had to decide whether or not I'm attracted to Edward sexually. To do that, I had to put aside my prejudices of men in general. My own father seems to have set the stage for my bias. James and Mike only solidified the aversion.

I also had to address the ever present anxiety that I shouldn't ever think about such a thing with Edward. It had almost become taboo in my mind.

When I addressed both of those concerns, the answer was blatantly clear.

Yes. I am most certainly sexually attracted to Edward and I want this.

Next, I had to decide whether or not I wish to be in a romantic relationship with Edward. This was so much more difficult to answer. In a perfect world, my answer would undoubtedly be yes. But in the world I live in, the answer was not as straightforward.

First, there is the fact that I'm not quite certain that Edward is attracted to me in that way. I know he loves me, but it almost seems as if he sees me as another sister.

All of the other girls he dates are tall and blonde and have huge attributes, so to speak. He really aims for the type that could be a supermodel if they just had that one big break. I can't compete with them. I'm short, brunette, a bit clumsy, and barely sporting a B cup. Overall, I'm nothing special at all.

Also, even though I hate thinking about it, I'm sure that all these women are perfectly fulfilled when they are intimate with Edward. I have to assume he would find their enthusiasm pleasing. I, on the other hand, have never found much satisfaction from my experience with straight sex. Granted, my experience was limited to two rather inept boys. Just thinking back on that time brings back so many bad memories and anxiety that I don't know if I can overcome my predetermination that I won't enjoy it, regardless of who it is with.

If I make a move and he doesn't feel the same way, will our friendship be able to withstand that indignity? Will I?

Do I risk outright humiliation and our friendship? How can I? But how can I not? I know I can't go on like this. I have to do something.

At one point last night, I thought maybe not being friends with Edward, altogether, would be easier than going through this over and over again.

That was a lot to think about.

When I broke it down, however, it was rather simple. I knew that this was causing me so much heartache and there was no end in sight. But I just can't walk away without trying for more. I would regret it too much, always asking myself "what if." At least I would know that I tried to develop our relationship into more, even at the risk that he wouldn't want to reciprocate.

It finally made sense. I had to go over it a couple times in my head for it to register. Yes, anything is better than this.

Since there is no reverse switch for my feelings, and no way I could go back to a time where Edward and his escapades with women were just an annoyance, I have to move forward. No matter what happens, it will be better than this. Yes, even losing Edward's friendship would be better than this.

Even in the light of a new day, the answers I have deduced to my problems last night still seem indisputable. I only have to figure out a way to carry out my plan. I've come to the conclusion that I cannot put a time frame on this; it has to happen at the right moment. As for when that moment will be, I have no idea.

I putter around the house and make some coffee. I skip breakfast because it is almost lunch time and I'm meeting Edward at his house shortly. And the mere thought of seeing him soon gets my heart beating just a bit quicker.

I decide to call and ask if he needs me to stop and pick up any food or booze before I get there.

It rings about six times, and just when I think it was going to go to voicemail, he answers with a gravelly hello.

"Hey, Edward. I just called to ask if you needed anything from the grocery or liquor store before I come over."

He sounds a bit discombobulated. His voice is rough as if he just woke up. "Uh, shit, what time is it? Oh, wow, it's already almost eleven. Uh, could you do me a favor and bump up lunch an hour or so? Make it for one o'clock?"

As he finishes I hear her nearby voice say, "Who are you talking to?"

"Uh, Bella, hold on a sec, okay?" He moves the phone away but I can still hear his muffled words. "I'm talking to a friend of mine."

I'm on the verge of having the coffee I just finished drinking come right back up; she never left last night. So much for his love 'em and leave 'em speech. He cared enough to spend the night with her.

Their whole conversation is audible. She continues, "Well, get off the phone and come take a shower with me…wait. Your friend is a woman? I don't know of any men named Bella."

She doesn't sound too bright.

"Yes, my friend is a woman named Bella. I'll be there in a minute. There are plenty of towels in the linen closet in the bathroom."

She sounds more bothered when she says, "Well, maybe you should just get off the phone right now or I may take that shower without you.

"Why do you have a friend who is a girl anyway? Doesn't she know you have company? What is she, some kind of troll with a crush on you that you just feel sorry for? Jeez, she sounds pathetic.

"Don't worry about her now. Come on, big boy. I believe I owe you, but I'm not going to wait forever, you know."

He clears his throat and starts speaking to me again. "Bella, look, uh, can I call you back in a little bit? I gotta take care of something right now."

The call disconnects. He finished his sentence and hung up on me without even giving me a moment to say goodbye.

He couldn't even wait one second for me to respond. Is the sex with her that good that he couldn't even let me say goodbye?

My heart feels as it has ripped in two. I openly sob as I realize that it's possible that she already has her claws in him. Last night, he talked to me while his date waited in the restaurant alone, now he can't even spare an extra second or two. He would never hang up on me to be at the beck and call of a woman if she wasn't someone who he thinks is good enough to keep around for a while.

I'm too late.

Apparently I don't even rate high enough to spare an extra moment when the choices are, A. Have more sex with the blonde bombshell or B. Give the troll one second to say goodbye.

If he's made his decision to keep this woman Kate, then I'm going to have to back off. I know now, I'm in love with him as a man, not just as a friend. If I were to attempt to continue to live as if that were not true, it wouldn't benefit anyone, and it certainly would NOT be healthy for me. Edward's a good man; I'll miss our friendship. I'll miss him. But I'll survive.

Tears stain my face, but I have to pull myself together. Tomorrow I'll begin to decide how to proceed.

I'm sure he'll make her happy.

I hope she deserves him and realizes just how lucky she is. I wish I could tell her all the ways he's amazing, how he fought so hard against all odds and how he won.

I wish I could tell her that she needs to take good care of him, because no matter how strong he seems on the outside, he's so very fragile inside.

I wish I could tell her that she'll need to be compassionate and patient with his moods, yet be aware that he has a habit of being a stubborn jackass if you let him.

I wish I could tell her that he loves granola with his yogurt, and spinach with everything else.

I wish I could tell her that his favorite color used to be blue but now he says it's changed to brown for some bizarre reason which he won't say. Of all colors—brown.

I wish that she can see just how precious he is to everyone around him and that as his lover, she somehow should hold him in even higher regard.

I wish that I could tell her what he needs is someone to love him unconditionally, through all his faults, because underneath, he's an amazing and beautiful human being.

The tears continue to sneak past despite my resolve to be strong.

My phone rings. I'm sure it is Alice since she came over yesterday when I just got into the bathtub. I assured her then I was fine, but she said that she would call me in the morning to chat.

I have to pull it together; I just want to be alone today. I can't unload my heart just now, maybe tomorrow.

I look down at my phone and see it's Edward calling.

I don't understand. It's only been about fifteen minutes since he hung up on me.

I answer tentatively, afraid it might be her telling me to back off from her man.

"Hey, Bella, sorry I rushed you off the phone. I had to get that bitch out of my house. I couldn't stand to have her here a minute longer."

I'm flabbergasted and can't respond during the pause he left after his statement to do so.

"God, she's a piece of work! I mean who the fuck does she think she is to question our friendship, and worse yet, to call you a troll? She's the troll in comparison.

"Just because she finally gave it up doesn't mean she's entitled to tell me who she thinks my friends should be. Ignorant stuck up hag!" He sounds furious. I don't interrupt since it seems he needs to hold court about this. It's so unlike him.

"I don't know why I waste my time on women like her. It's not worth it! I should just stick to jerking off. It's a lot cheaper. It doesn't cost me four freaking nights out to dinner only to find out she's a high maintenance little primadonna that thinks she walks on water because she has big tits and bottle blonde hair."

Uh…wow. I'd say he's a bit pissed.

"Christ! What a waste of time. And she only let me touch her once last night. She said we could go again in the morning but she couldn't do it more than once at a time with me because she didn't want to be sore.

"Is that supposed to be some sort of half-assed compliment?

"She just laid there like a wet, noisy blanket. Christ, she has a mouth! She should use it for more than complaining!

"I could have a better time with hand lotion and a box of tissues. I mean, I had to try to fall asleep with a hard-on. What the fuck?"

I must have made some kind of noise indicating my shock at his uncharacteristic, profanity laden tirade, because his tone instantly changed and he couldn't sound more contrite if he tried.

"OHHHHHH, BELLA! OH GOD! I'm so sorry I went off like that with you, please forgive me? I'm just so angry that she thought she was so much better than you. Christ, I disrespected you again.

"Bella, please, I didn't mean to be so rude. Sometimes I get so angry and forget my manners. You deserve much better than that. I shouldn't speak to you as if you're another Emmet. Please, say you'll still come over despite my obvious lack of social graces. I need to remember there are still good women left in the world."

I'm still trying to wrap my head around everything here. My world has turned on a dime.

He hung up on me to kick her out, not because she was leading him around by his dick. I can stop my knee jerk reactions to what I perceived was happening and grow up.

It seems that my emotions get the best of me too, but only when I'm feeling sorry for myself.

If this has any shot of working I have to stop acting like a child and trust him.

I finally speak, but my voice betrays my state of mind prior to his call. "Uh sure, Edward, I'll be there. I'm just going to be a little late." I can't say much more or he'll certainly know I've been crying.

It doesn't work. He picks up on the change in my voice. "Bella, are you alright? Were you crying? Did I make you cry? Wait, did you think I brushed you off to be with her? To go have sex with her or something?"

I try to clear my throat without him hearing and try unconvincingly to deny his observations. "Uh, no, nothing like that. Uhm, my allergies are bothering me today. That's all."

"Bella, just in case you forgot, I'll remind you again—you're a lousy liar. So now, do you want to tell me the real reason?"

"Edward. Please, it's my allergies." I blow my nose extra loud for effect, hoping he will think it's from ragweed. But then I realize you have to blow your nose when you cry hard enough as well. I add a few late, weak coughs and I realize I'm selling it too hard. I'm an idiot.

"All right, I guess if you want me to know if something is wrong you would tell me, otherwise I'll have to take your word for it. You sound like you were crying, but it is really only your allergies. Okay…I hope you know that you can talk to me about your allergies any time. Whenever you're ready, I'll be here...for you and your allergies…

"So anyway, what time are you coming over?"

He's not pushing me about it. How does he know just what I need when I need it? I feel a small smile break through. "How about twelve thirty?"

"That's perfect. Come straight here, I don't need anything from the store. Oh, don't forget your bathing suit."

We say goodbye and I have to remain seated for a few minutes because I'm dizzy from this drastic turn of events.

I take a minute to remind myself that I need to regain control of my emotions. Just a few minutes ago, I was considering finding a new apartment to avoid being around Edward, and now I feel like I'm happy again.

That woman is gone for good, and I suppose I have a second chance until the next girl catches his eye. Sometimes that takes weeks, maybe months, sometimes only a few days; either way I need to get my act together quick.

I need to realize that he's only one man, and he's far from perfect. He has a nasty temper and a nasty mouth when he loses said temper. He can be as stubborn as a mule and almost never bend once his mind is made up. He has some old fashioned beliefs when it comes to gender roles, such as men should always be gentlemen because women are the more delicate of the sexes, although he slips sometimes, especially recently. Today's tirade was very out of character for him. I think he would have a stroke if he heard the way his sister, Rose and I all carry on.

He also very traditional with paying a woman's way or carrying her bags, opening doors, pulling out chairs, etc. Well, I guess the gentlemanly thing should not be considered a negative trait at all, it's just not as common with guys today and some women don't know how to react to it.

Last but not least, he eats more spinach than any other ten people I know combined. I always wondered why they still sell that stuff in the grocery store and now I know—it's for Edward. I feel sorry for his daughter because he even gets her to eat it, too. She says she likes it. Somehow he brainwashed her. That has to be the answer. No way will he get me to eat that stuff, uhn-uh.

No matter how great or how awful Edward is, the amount of turmoil he unknowingly causes me has to be minimized. I have a lot of room for improvement, and I promise myself to work on keeping everything in perspective.

Edward

I can't believe I was actually looking forward to getting my dick wet with that bitch. Talk about a disappointment. No one, and I mean no one, will ever get away with speaking about Bella that way in my presence.

A troll? That bitch had no idea she was talking about the most perfect woman I have ever met. Not only physically, because I really have to stop noticing just how stunning Bella is, it's been getting me in trouble lately. But, how many times do you meet a woman so beautiful, only to find out that her soul is even more exquisite?

And then, the tramp had the nerve to cry when I told her to leave. When her alligator tears didn't work on me like she predicted, I saw what she was really made of, and it wasn't cinnamon and spice and everything nice, either. She said that she should have held out for jewelry before she gave anything up, and she has no doubt that I would have handed it over to get her naked. She really has a very high opinion of herself.

On top of all that, when I held open the door for her to leave, she tried to punch me in the junk while she walked past. Luckily I moved out of the way. A guy should get one free pass to smack a woman like that just once, right in the back of the head.

I'm just glad that's over. Now I'll never have to see or deal with her again.

I just want to relax the rest of the day with my girls, Kate and Bella. Tomorrow, I'm looking forward to taking Kate to the lake to go fishing and maybe a little tubing on our boat. Maybe I should ask Bella to come with us. Another set of eyes is always helpful when tubing. But I'll ask Kate what she thinks of that first. She really likes Bella, just like her dad does, but I know sometimes she likes time alone with just me, too.

I take a quick shower and put on a T-shirt and swim trunks for the hot tub.

I marinate the shrimp and vegetables I'm going to grill for lunch, which I will make with some Spanish rice.

Hopefully Mom will make pot roast for dinner tonight; it's my favorite. She switches it up with baked chicken with homemade macaroni and cheese or Italian, and once in a while beef stew or chicken soup in the colder months. Either way, it will be great, and I can pig out on some comfort food.

Bella has become a regular at Sunday dinners with the family. Usually if we are both off from work, I'll drag her along with me. But, if I'm working, once in a while she'll even go without me. She's already been there more often than Victoria, who is the only other woman I've taken with me to Sunday dinner. Victoria only came a few times when we were engaged and a few times before my marriage went into the crapper.

Mom and Dad think of Bella as part of the family, so not having her at dinner already feels unusual.

Bella arrives at twelve fifteen and looks amazing. I forgot she was getting her hair done yesterday after she left my house so abruptly.

She has been acting a bit strange lately, but then again, my mouth has been running off unchecked by my brain just as much. So I guess we're even.

She's probably just put off by the amount of unfiltered obscenities I've been spewing along with that whole disastrous conversation about vibrators yesterday.

GOD! I'm such an asshole.

She smiles when she sees me outside, and this afternoon is starting out a lot like yesterday. I just hope that it will end a whole lot better. Sure, I got laid last night and they say even bad sex is pretty good, but honestly, I think it could have actually been the most boring sex I've ever had.

The anticipation was great, moments before were pretty good and then the complaining started.

She complained for me to take it easy, slower, not too deep, not that rough. Rough? I was barely moving. I think she was worried about breaking a nail or something from the way she was clawing at my back and my hips.

When she finally stopped complaining and started getting into it, her voice became entirely too irritating. I wanted to switch up positions, but she wouldn't allow it and I couldn't convince her otherwise. Honestly, she could have faked her orgasm at that point and I wouldn't have cared. I had better sex when I was a teenager than I had last night. That was a waste of time and one condom. ONE condom. Not three, not two; one, just one. Man, that sucked.

I want to hug Bella when I tell her I'm sorry for the inconsiderate way I've been treating her lately. She hugs everyone else pretty frequently, but for some reason she's stopped being the hugging type with me ever since I got home. She gave me a hug every time she visited me when I was still in the hospital and in rehab, but not anymore.

Her hugs used to feel so incredible; I used to live for those hugs. But recently, we really don't hug all that much. I guess she picked up on my discomfort and reluctance with being close to her. It's unfortunate, but I suppose it's necessary.

The only time she'll touch me now is when she unfortunately witnesses one of my embarrassing mental breakdowns. Then she won't let me go—she wouldn't be able to break my grasp on her anyway. During those times, she has been my life line, the only thing that keeps me afloat, and I'll be damned if anything could tear me away from her.

I decide to break convention and do it. I'll hug her. If I wait for her to hug me, it will never happen. I need her to know I'm sorry.

She walks up, greeting me with an unsure smile on her face, almost like she's looking at me differently. I can't allow that to happen. Nothing should change our friendship. I have to fix this.

"Bella, I'm so glad to see you." I wrap my arm around her, and for the love of God, she feels so perfect, she smells like heaven, and I don't want my arms to ever let her go. I feel her tense up however, and I'm a little disappointed that she feels so uncomfortable in my arms. I don't want to, but I pull away. I rub her arms that are now hanging loosely at her sides and look her in the eyes when I speak. "Bella, I'm sorry for everything. My behavior to you lately has been horrible. My parents didn't raise me as a savage, but I have treated you like trash lately. Please, remember how special you are to me. I don't deserve someone as perfect as you but you make me very happy that you still stick around with the likes of me."

She moves her hands to hold my arms, and a moment later she crushes herself into me, holding onto me tightly. Her muffled voice comes from the area near my right shoulder. "Edward, believe me, I'm so far from as perfect as you think I am."

Having her in my arms feels so amazing, my heart feels as if it could burst. Damn, I'm being such a woman, but she has this effect on me like no one else ever has. Fate is a cruel hearted bitch; she would be absolutely the most perfect woman for me if she wasn't a lesbian. Well, according to Alice, I will "be with her" one day, whatever that is supposed to mean. If nothing else, Alice's prediction gives me hope that our friendship will endure, even with me being an ass.

We break our hold of each other and she must notice the smile on my face because I'm rewarded with one right back. And that smile of hers could bring a strong man to his knees. She's absolutely breathtaking. "Bella, you ARE perfect. Perfect just for me and wow…you look so…wow, uh, I like your hair, it looks…real pretty."

Holy hell, could I be any more of a geek if I tried? I ask her to sit down at the table as I get us a drink of iced tea.

"Well thank you, Edward. I think I found myself a new stylist. I think she did a nice job, too."

Bella goes on to tell me all about her afternoon at the spa, where she got a facial and her nails done also. She says she's worried about breaking or chipping one since the wedding isn't for another six days, but she tells me she has the nail salon at the spa on speed dial. She could be reading me the phone book, I'd still be mesmerized by every word that comes out of her sinfully beautiful mouth.

She goes on to explain more than most men ever know about what women go through in these places, all for the sake of looking or feeling pretty. Every word captivates me, and I wonder how I will survive seeing her in the bathing suit I notice she is wearing under her T-shirt and shorts. She tells me that once in a while she likes feeling like she's a princess, even if she could never be pretty like the girls I'm used to dating.

I nearly spit out the mouthful of iced tea that had just passed my lips. That steered my mind out of the dangerous waters it was speeding towards. Now I'm angry. How could she not see what I and everyone else around her sees?

"What? The girls I'm used to dating? They are nothing in comparison to you. You should know that beauty isn't limited to what's visible. It's from within as well, and combined, I've never seen a woman more extraordinarily beautiful than you."

She looks down, and then walks away from me.

I can't be sure, but I think I stepped out of line again.

"Uh, Bella, I hope that wasn't wrong for me to say, but please, don't ever believe that those women are above you. Not a chance."

Her smile is now shy and reserved. "Thanks, but those women look really good on your arm, you have to admit."

"I don't know how it looks. All I know is that they are all wrong, regardless of what they look like. Especially Kate from last night."

"If they're all wrong for you, what is your idea of the right girl? This way we can make sure you avoid her and keep your promise to stay out of a serious relationship. In a way, if they are all wrong for you, then they are all right, right?" She ends her sentence with an awkward giggle.

"An exact replica of you would be the perfect girl for me. Perfect-perfect, like there-would-never-ever-be-another—that kind of perfect."

Oh shit, where the hell did that come from? I'm not helping the awkward situation.

Why did I divulge that little tidbit to her? I can't be sure—I'm either having a stroke or I've lost my mind.

I have to lighten this up somehow. "Well, you know, she couldn't be exactly like you, she'd have to be into guys."

The look she gives me is highly unusual. Her eyes are wide and her face is red—I've certainly put that look on her face before—but yet it's strained. Like she's trying to pass a watermelon. Nope. That didn't work either.

I laugh a bit in an attempt to ease my profound gracelessness. I try to tell her that I was only kidding as she begins coughing and sputtering.

Why do I keep doing this? Why am I being such a complete asshole? All I'm doing lately is succeeding in making her uncomfortable around me. No wonder she doesn't like men. If they're all like me, then we're a bunch of idiots.

"You know, how about we not even worry about any of this, Bella? Let's not even talk about this stuff. Really, I'm giving up on women. I'm considering becoming a nun at this point. And before you ask, yes I said a nun because it'll be that much more demanding and I like their sensible shoes."

I finally get a real smile out of her.

"It's fine, Edward. It's not anything you said, but I'm not feeling well. I know I just got here, but really I'm still not feeling myself yet. That headache just won't go away. I think I should really get going home.

"Please tell Kate I miss her, and I wish I could've had some girl time with her tonight, but I really need to just lie down and take it easy for the rest of the day."

"Right, uhm, yeah. Of course. Uh, sure, I understand. Yeah, maybe you should go."

Shit. I scared her away. I'm such a fucking idiot. What the hell am I thinking? I can't do anything right in front of her anymore.

She instantly senses my unease, she takes my face between her soft little hands and her beautiful brown eyes bore directly into mine. "Edward, DO NOT even start beating yourself up over me wanting to go home. It is not because you upset me or made me angry. I know that's what you're thinking. It's just that I don't think I would be very good company if we continued on with the day. Please don't worry about me, I'll be okay, I promise. I really want to spend time with you and Kate, but right now I think it's best if I go home so I can get better, okay?"

"Okay. Can I call you later? Uhm, if you're not sleeping? Wait…how will I know if you're asleep or not? All right. Just forget it. I guess I'll see you on Friday then."

I know she needs me to back off and that's what I'll do. I don't need to stalk her like some pathetic loser.

"Friday? It's Sunday, how come Friday?" She looks confused, dare I say, a bit disappointed.

"Well, tomorrow Kate has off from school and we're going to go out for a day on the lake. Then I have to work a double on Tuesday until Wednesday morning, and then the day shift on Thursday. You are working Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday as well, so I guess the next time I'll see you is Friday when I pick you up so we can drive up to the resort together."

"Oh, uh, I see. Yeah, Friday's good then. Uh, okay then. So yeah, bye, I guess."

Wow, this still feels incredibly difficult, and it's all my fault. I'm sure she's afraid that I'll grab her for a hug and grind up against her or something.

What have I done?

I make no move to get closer to her, and she's standing a good five feet from me. "Yeah, bye, uh…I hope you feel better."

Moments later she pulls out of the driveway, and my hope of today not ending up as messed up as yesterday has obviously been dashed upon the rocks, and in record time.

I'm furious with myself.

Why, for fuck's sake, would I say shit like that? What the fuck came over me? She's like a sister to me, and then I all but make a pass at her?

"…You would be perfect for me, Bella." GOD what was I thinking?

If I were her, I would run away from me, too. She probably thinks I'm gonna slip her a rufie or something.

"FUUUCCKKK!" I slam my phone into the patio bricks and it shatters into pieces. I want to fucking punch something. Hard.

A car pulling up into the driveway snaps me out of my tantrum. It's Tanya with Kate. They're early. I have to regain control. I pick up the larger pieces of my shattered phone. Apparently that protective phone case of mine doesn't protect against everything.

At the sight of my little girl, I feel my anger starting to prematurely fade. It's a good thing they are here, or there's no telling what I would've broken next. Sometimes I get so mad I can't think straight; this was one of those times. Now, because I'm an irrational shithead—I'm phone-less.

Tanya and Kate live about a mile and a half outside my development in a decent sized two family house that I bought for a steal. The rent from the second tenant covers the mortgage and my daughter has a decent roof over her head. Win-win.

Tanya walks up and sees the phone in pieces and asks what happened. I tell her I dropped it. She says nothing, but she frowns at me while lifting one eyebrow to make me aware that she knows I'm full of shit.

She doesn't get involved. Well, only if it involves Kate. Today she keeps her opinions to herself, even though I know she has a boatload of them right now.

I tell her to call on the house phone if she needs me, and she reminds me that Kate, of course, brought her new cell phone.

A cell phone. She isn't even ten years old yet and she has her own cell phone. Tanya insisted. Go figure, it pays off already, and Tanya is smug about it.

The numbers are restricted and it has this tracker on it so we know where she is, of course, only if she has her phone with her. I put her on my plan which Tanya is already on, so it didn't cost that much extra. I only thought about it for a day or two before agreeing.

Tanya makes sure I'm okay and asks if there is anything she can do before she leaves. I thank her and tell her no before wishing her fun on her date tonight. She has been seeing this guy, Garret for a while now.

I met him a couple times and he seems all right, I just don't know how much to trust him yet. Kate tells me he's a really nice guy and he has a daughter a year older than Kate, named Bree. Kate likes her a lot and is looking forward to maybe having her as a stepsister one day. From the way things are going, it could happen. Then I'll have no choice but to trust him, but I'm holding out until then.

If things are getting serious between them, I have to eventually make sure that Tanya knows if they decide to get married or live together in my house, it will be fine with me, but we'll have to work out a charge for rent.

Oh, and I will subject him to a criminal background check prior to that and make sure he knows I will extinguish his life in the most extraordinarily painful way possible if he lays one finger on my child at any time.

After Tanya leaves, Kate and I make plans for the afternoon. Maverick is with her, and I swear the dog loves me almost as much as he loves Kate. I think it's because I'm the only other guy he gets to be around for any length of time.

I skip lunch and put it away for tomorrow. We take Mav to the dog park for a while before we take a soak in the hot tub. Later, we'll get ready for dinner at Grandma and Grandpa's house.

Soon Kate and Maverick distract me enough that my worries about Bella temporarily fade into the background.

We'll work through it. I'll see her on Friday. Hopefully things will be back to normal for the weekend.

Bella

I feel awful that I had to leave Edward so abruptly, but I couldn't trust myself not to spill and tell him about the way I feel. Or worse—show him. When he said I would be perfect for him, I knew that if I stayed I would be sorely tempted to see if that were true. Of all the opportunities I could have been honest with him—that should have been the one, but there was another woman in his bed only hours before. How low would it be for me to follow so closely after that?

Maybe a few days away from him is just what I need to re-center myself, to list my priorities and make sure I'm at the top of the register. I have to take care of me first.

I can no longer afford to wallow in my tears that a man has made me feel sad. I have foolishly allowed myself to feel that way, and now it is time to put a stop to it. He doesn't even know it, but it's as if I've let him have complete control over me and my emotions. I didn't want it when I was in college and I certainly don't want it now. I'm stronger than that.

My problems with the men I was involved with in college have transformed me into a stronger person, although lately it's hard to recognize that in myself.

I'm weakened. Worst of all, I am the only one to blame for my condition. I need to remind myself that I'm in control my choices.

I have come to the realization that what I feel for Edward is different than platonic love. I think back and note that even when I thought I was in love with James during the early months of our relationship, it didn't feel anything like this.

This is more like a complete consumption of my heart, my soul and my senses. They have all been indelibly marked by Edward.

When I think of him, it's as if my heart becomes flooded with emotions, ready to spill over. It's all there: love, admiration, awe and understanding of a flawed, but beautiful soul.

Deep within me, there is an undeniable feeling that Edward and I are somehow connected. What we have already shared is too exceptional to be discounted. I've witnessed him all but rise from the dead. In turn, whether he realizes it or not, he has awakened something within me that has long been lifeless as well—my capacity for love.

Every time I see something that I perceive as beautiful, I wish I could share it with him.

Every time I hear his voice, it calms me, yet it excites me at the same time.

Every time I taste champagne, I wonder if one day the future, Edward and I will drink it in celebration for an intimate reason between us.

Every time I close my eyes and think of him, I can almost imagine his scent. Fresh, clean, masculine, outdoors and sunshine. All Edward.

Every time I accidently brush up against a stranger as I'm walking through a busy store, I realize that touch held nothing special. However if I accidently brush up against Edward, I would know it with my eyes closed. I would feel the tingle that has always been there. That tingle has now matured into an undeniable current that flows through me.

No, I have never felt anything like this before, and I realize it can be a dangerous place to be. To put yourself out there, exposed to the possibility of immeasurable heartache, being willing to take that chance is an act of daring, no doubt.

I know what I have to do; I cannot go on without Edward knowing how I feel. I have no other choice than to risk that heartache.

I think I need to get this off my chest; it's a strange feeling. I used to feel that any stray emotion that I felt for Edward was something that I could never ever confess, like it was some dark, deviant secret.

I think Alice may want to know what I can now acknowledge out loud. I call her and we make plans to get together later tonight. She says that once Jane is in bed, she'll be over with a bottle of wine.

Ay nine o'clock there is a knock at my door and, as expected, Alice is there, a bit of a scowl on her face, but she gives me a quick hug and peck on the cheek as she walks in.

There is very little in the way of niceties when Alice is on a mission. She opens the wine, pours two large drinks with a few ice cubes in mine and urges me to tell her what's going on as she takes up residence on my couch.

I kind of feel like I need a way to ease into the conversation. I swallow a third of my glass in one mouthful.

I tell her everything, starting from my college days to this afternoon. It takes almost an hour to get through it all. Alice had a couple questions here and there, but mostly she let me go on to the point where I admitted that I was in love with her brother.

She smiles from ear to ear. She stands up and hugs me while bouncing up and down slightly, and makes a noise not unlike a squeal. It's a little unnerving.

She pulls away and sits next to me much closer. With her unwavering exuberance, she explains that she knew Edward and I were meant to be together from the very first day she met me.

"I know my father and the doctors were very concerned for a while there that Edward wouldn't pull through, but honestly, I knew he would survive. I knew he would be okay because I could see the bond he would have with you. You were going to carry him through, and not only when he was sick.

"I didn't tell Edward about any of this until a couple weeks ago, but I told Rose and my mom while he was in the hospital. My mom especially, believes me now. She told me that my forecast, for lack of a better word, was the only thing that kept her sane during those days.

"I guess she put all her faith in my craziness, and it kept her going. She walked tall, she didn't cry as much, and she stopped begging Edward to get better. She knew he would in his own time. She didn't listen to the doctors as they were trying to ease her into the fact that soon, she was going to have to bury her son."

She pauses to clear her throat after thinking back to that difficult time in their lives. She takes another sip of her wine.

"Instead, she educated them on who her son is and that he has too much to live for to give in to their prognosis. She said he would surprise them all. And he did.

"The bond between the two of you is very strong. To me, it has always seemed more than just a bond of friendship, whether Edward wants to acknowledge it or not.

"Oh, and by the way, when I told him about this only a little while ago, he wouldn't talk to me for a week because he's so stubborn."

We both laughed at Edward's typical behavior.

She picks up her wine glass again and I follow in kind. With her free hand she joins mine and we toast.

"To Edward and Bella! Life has to unfold, unrushed at its own pace. It took almost a year, but you finally figured it out. Congratulations."

I am a bit overwhelmed. We drink with a smile, but I need to address my concern.

"Ali. I don't even know if he would feel the same way."

Her answer is just about instantaneous. "Well, that is just about one of the most ridiculous notions I have ever heard! You don't know if he would feel the same way? Really? Bella that man would move heaven and earth for you. Never doubt that. "

She shakes her head adamantly and puts down her glass. My finger circles around the rim of mine, as I consider myself properly scolded.

"Yes, he's stubborn and may have a hard time believing that you would feel this way as well. It's easier for him to stay blind and refuse to see it.

"Open his eyes and you can be sure he'll show you he feels the same way. Jeez, I don't know how else to say it. "

Her tone gets very serious when she says, "Remember, he'll certainly take a relationship with you pretty seriously. Please don't hurt him, Bella. With all that he's been through over the past year, I don't think he would handle it too well."

My eyes widen in surprise. "Oh, Alice, you have nothing to worry about. I could never do that."

I think back on my relationship with Jessica and remember how close I came to kissing Edward once. I was wrong and thankfully nothing happened.

No matter what my feelings were for Edward or Jessica at the time, I would not be able to forgive myself if I didn't turn away.

I now felt excited, like the world instantly snapped into place.

I hug Alice and a part of me wants to shout it from the rooftops that I love Edward Cullen. But I have to keep everything in check. I made a promise that I wouldn't lose myself in someone else. Yes, this makes me happy and I look forward to working on a new relationship with Edward, but I have to keep my perspective.

I'll keep the upper hand over my emotions.

**A/N: Please be gentle, I never claimed to be a pro at this. Another chapter will be up soon, only because, after reading this one over and over, I don't especially feel confident about it. **

**Thank you for letting me subject you to the ramblings of what has become this nearly full time hobby of mine. **


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: I really don't have much to say, so I won't, except I love my beta, kitchmill. Oh, and thank you for your reviews and PMs. I enjoy talking with you all.**

Chapter 14

Bella

Monday comes and goes, and Edward doesn't answer either of the texts or the voicemail that I left him. I suppose he must be busy.

I just thought I'd let him know that my headache is better and I hope that he is having a good time with Kate on the boat.

Tuesday morning comes, and I wake up for work with still no communication from Edward.

I text him good morning at five thirty a.m. because I know he's getting ready to go into work as well, only he won't get off until tomorrow morning at seven o'clock since he's doing a double shift.

I arrive into work over an hour later with still no response.

I can't let this bother me because as I look over the assignments for the day, I realize it's going to be a busy one. I have two very sick patients that will be taking up just about every minute of my time. At least the day will go quickly.

At seven that night, I give report to the nurse who is my relief and walk out to my car.

I take my phone out for the first time since lunch and notice I have a text from my Dad, which I answer quickly, but still no response from Edward. I find this to be a bit strange.

We talk to each other just about every day, and we certainly text each other relentlessly.

Could he have found another woman already?

Damn it! I'm doing it again.

This is why I have to take a yet another step back. Already, I'm thinking of the worst case scenario. He still has too much influence over my emotions, and we're still only friends. Time to reel back a little more.

I text him one last time and ask him to give me a call whenever. He'll call me when he gets a chance. No more, no less.

By Wednesday night, as I'm leaving work, I still haven't heard from Edward. I can't deny that it is troubling me now because this is just terribly unusual.

I would normally have had at least a call a day from him by now and a dozen and a half texts, even though I usually see him three or four times a week.

I think I should just call Alice to make sure everything is okay.

She picks up quickly. "Hey, Bella, what's going on?"

"Hi, Alice. I was just leaving work and, you know, I haven't heard from Edward since I left his house early Sunday afternoon. I texted him and left him a couple of voicemails, but still no answer. I thought it was a little unusual."

"He's such a knuckle head. When was the last time you called or texted?"

I think back. "I guess around seven thirty last night."

"Well, Edward told me he dropped and broke his phone right after you left on Sunday.

"He and Kate went to the lake Monday and his plan was to stop at the mobile phone store on the way home to get a replacement.

"Well, Mr. Clumsy winds up cutting his leg on a rusty nail. He was swimming and went to get out of the water on a dock and opened up his lower leg. He wound up in the ER getting ten stitches and never made it to get the phone replaced."

"Oh my God, Alice! I didn't know. Poor Edward, I hope he's feeling better."

"Poor Edward, nothing! Kate was in worse shape. I went to pick her up while she was in the ER with him. Tanya couldn't get out of work for another hour or so and Edward didn't want Kate to have to stay there because she was so upset. She was traumatized seeing her daddy hurt.

"She's very protective over him lately and was nearly inconsolable over him bleeding. I think she still hasn't gotten over that one time when she saw him in the hospital when he was sick. It was all we could do to get her to leave him there. She was a wreck. Looking back on it now, it was a mistake to let her visit him then.

"Well, I wanted to distract her on the way home, and that's when she told me about her new cell phone and the story about Edward's smashed up phone. She told me it was broken in pieces when she got to his house Sunday afternoon, so I suspect my hot headed brother got mad at something and took it out on his phone and broke it."

Huh, I left his house on Sunday afternoon. I wonder if it had anything to do with me. Probably not; I know he was still mad about that girl he was with the night before.

I make it to my car and put the phone on speaker as I head out of the parking deck.

Alice continues, "Sooooooo, anyway, he was supposed to take the day off from work yesterday because of his injury, but the stubborn ass went in anyway. Heaven forbid he's late or misses work. Since he had to work a double yesterday, he couldn't get the replacement then. He got it this afternoon after he went home from work and slept a couple hours because apparently he had a busy night. I'm sure it's activated by now. You should try calling him again."

"Well that was quite an ordeal, but it clears a lot up. I was starting to worry. Oh, hold on a sec, I have another call. Well, speak of the devil. It's your brother."

"All right, go talk to him. Good luck! Later, Bella."

"Bye. Ali. Thanks."

I click over. "Hello?"

"Bella! Hey! What's going on? Sorry I haven't talked to you in a while. I broke my phone on Sunday and just got a replacement this afternoon. I saw that you left me a couple messages. Sorry I didn't get back to you sooner. So how are you? How was work?"

I can't help but smile at hearing his voice. My heart is beating a little faster as I recognize how much I have missed this feeling in the past few days.

"I was starting to worry about you, you big lug. I thought you may have finally come to your senses and got rid of me." Hmm, did that sound flirty? If he was in front of me I could picture myself playfully slapping his chest and batting my eyelashes at him. Definitely flirty for me.

I clear my throat quickly and continue, "But I'm fine. Work has been incredibly busy over the past two days. I'm lucky I managed to squeeze in a quick lunch. I think I'm in for more of the same tomorrow, but then I'll have off for three days. Three party filled days. It should be fun. So, how are you?"

"First of all I'll never get rid of you. I keep telling you, you're stuck with me, Swan, you just don't believe me. If anyone should come to their senses it's you.

"But anyway, I'm okay, been better, been worse. I wound up cutting my leg and getting stiches Monday afternoon and I couldn't get to the phone store until today. I didn't want to bother you at work so I thought I would wait to call you until you were on your way home."

"I was just on the phone with your sister and she told me all about your accident. A nail, huh?"

"Yeah, that'll teach me to just pull up onto the swim dock instead of using the ladder. I thought Kate was going to give birth to kittens when she saw I was hurt. I guess she's not a big fan of the sight of blood and hospitals. I don't think a career in the medical field is in her future after all."

I think he's trying to downplay how protective Kate has become over him. "Maybe it was more because it was her Daddy that was hurt and not just the sight of blood. Have you considered that? Alice told me that the last time she saw you in the hospital, it knocked her for a loop."

"Yeah, Alice mentioned that to me as well. She's been pushing the issue and thinks Kate should talk to someone.

"I mean, Kate knows I'm fine and there's no longer anything to worry about, but I'll talk to Jasper and see what he thinks the next step should be. But I'm telling you right now, I'm not ever allowing her to go on any medications, never happen," he spits out his last sentence with contempt.

With a sigh he relaxes. "I guess I never considered how seeing me sick could cause her this kind of anxiety, even almost a year later.

"Anyway, one of your messages said your headache finally went away, that's good. Just in time for you to get hung over after Angela's bachelorette party on Friday. You haven't told me what you girls intend on doing anyway."

Ah hah! He's trying to pinch me for information.

"Oh no you don't, Cullen! Did Ben set you up to this?"

"Angela doesn't even know where we are going so I'm not telling a soul. But, I heard you guys are going to a strip club. Very original."

"I assumed that's what was on the agenda. Just so you know, I had nothing to do with the planning. I'm only along for the ride."

I stop at a red light thinking about Edward at a strip club and I'm on the fence on whether it would be amusing, offensive or sexy to watch him watch those girls. The car horn behind me snaps me out of my thoughts as the light has turned.

I step on the gas and say, "I still think this is a crazy idea, having the parties the night before the wedding which will start at three o'clock. If Alice has anything to say about it, she's going to want a good five hour prep time for us. Angela and Ben are asking for trouble, I mean really…don't they make comedies about situations like this?"

Edward speaks again, "Well, thank God I'm not a woman. It's much too labor intensive. I could wake up at one fifteen take care of business, get dressed in that crazy monkey suit, and be ready by one forty five for pictures at two. I'd get to sleep in later than that if I could get away with wearing a clip on tie…damn meddling sister!"

"I think it was very nice that Angela added your sister as a bridesmaid for all the help that she provided. And, that Ben asked you to be a groomsman not only to even out the party, but more so because you guys have become good friends recently."

"I have no problem with that; I think it's cool as hell. My only request from my sister was a clip on bowtie. It takes me forever to get that thing right otherwise. Maybe Ben can't get away with wearing one, but why not lowly ol' me?

"Believe me, with all the beautiful women up there, no one will ever even notice me in my rent-a-suit.

"You do realize I'm going to have to go traipsing in on you girls to have someone tie it for me?

"I know that whatever goes with a bride and her entourage before the wedding is off limits to men. I'm sure there are strange rituals, chanting, animal sacrifices, and what not. So you ladies either have to send us for lessons in knot tying—which may or may not come in handy for Ben later on that night—or you are going to have to send one lady out for knot duty."

I laugh at his ridiculousness.

"Don't laugh, I took a poll, and apparently, not one of us can tie it well."

I personally think they don't like the ties so they're all playing helpless.

"You were a fireman, for goodness sake, Edward! Didn't they teach you all about clove hitches and figure eights and stuff? You'd think you could figure out how to tie a bow.

"When do you pick up your suit?"

"I just got it today."

"All right, I'll be over in twenty minutes. Is that okay?"

"Uh, yeah, that'll be great. Uh, you didn't eat yet, did you? How about I order some Chinese food? Otherwise, only thing I had to look forward to for dinner was oatmeal."

Yay! I get to see Edward tonight, and it doesn't even sound like a lame excuse to do so.

"Kate's here, Tanya dropped her off after they had dinner, but I bet when she finds out that we're ordering take out, she'll be hungry again…"

"That's perfect, Edward. You know what I like. Surprise me. And I can't wait to see that little girl of yours."

Even better, I get to have dinner with Edward and Kate.

"All right then, I'll see you in a little bit. Bye, Bella."

Less than fifteen minutes later I pull into his driveway. I guess I stepped a little harder on the gas than usual.

I knock on the door and Kate answers when she sees it's me. I'm greeted with a big hug. I could hear the shower running, so we settle into the living room to catch up, but as soon as we sit down the doorbell rings. It must be the delivery guy with our food. Wow, that was quick.

I suddenly realize I don't have enough cash on me and I don't bring my credit cards to work. I let him into the foyer and quickly go tell Edward I need a few more dollars.

I knock on the bathroom door. The water had just stopped.

"Edward, I'm a little short on cash and the delivery guy just showed up." I try not to imagine Edward naked on just the other side of this flimsy piece of wood I am speaking through.

"Uhm, my wallet should be in the top drawer in the nightstand closest to the door."

Of course, I can't find it.

"Ummmm, I'm looking…and I don't see it."

He comes walking out in only a towel around his waist to help me find it.

My life is a bitch.

I'm frozen on the spot. His hair is still soaking wet, causing water droplets to travel down his sculpted chest to his abdomen. I watch as a few make it all the way down to the towel. I'm mesmerized.

He looks amazing. No. Beyond amazing. He looks like he stepped out of the centerfold of a Playgirl magazine, and he doesn't need any photoshopping.

He stands right next to me and I'm immobilized. God he smells so good.

I have to find out what soap he uses, just so I can sniff it when I'm home alone. Damn, I'm pathetic.

I'm still unable to move. I can only follow his towel clad form around the room as he mutters, "I swear I just had it with me this afternoon."

He finally finds it in the hamper in the back pocket of the jeans he was wearing earlier before he went for a run.

"Ahh, here it is. Sorry. Take this, I invited you, so don't even think about going halfsies."

I'm still standing there like a moron with my mouth open as he hands me the cash to pay for the food while he goes to get dressed. I think I managed to squeak out a thank you, or at least that's what was supposed to happen in my mind. I can't be sure if I was successful.

It takes a momentous effort on my part to walk into the next room as if I'm unaffected by what I've just witnessed.

Thankfully, I manage to get my act together quickly enough. By the time Edward comes into the kitchen, Kate and I are organizing the food on the island and I feel more in control of my urges. We decide to forego the dining room table as well as plates and eat right from the container as we sit on the floor around the coffee table with a movie.

Edward is now dressed in a plain, white V-neck T-shirt and a pair of pale worn out button fly Levi's. He's barefoot and somehow, that makes him look over-the-top sexy. He obviously didn't think about this outfit, nor would one intentionally wear this combination to impress, but he looks incredible. His shirt is so tight that it looks painted on. It shows the definition of every muscle in his chest and abdomen. The Levi's are snug yet ride a bit low on his hips, and his white shirt is tucked in with his abdominal muscles and obliques creating a V-shape against the outline of the top of his pelvis.

Greek gods should have been modeled after him. He obviously doesn't realize just how sexy he looks in this simple combination.

First the towel, now this; he's trying to kill me. My commitment to take my time before expressing my feelings to Edward is deteriorating. Thank goodness Kate is here.

Dinner is spent sitting on the floor laughing at the ridiculousness of the movie we're watching. Edward starts adding witty commentary and dubs over their dialogue with what he thinks they should be saying. We all join in, and the result is hilarious.

We manage to turn a bad mystery thriller into our own hilarious comedy.

I should have known better than to attempt to take a sip of my diet coke, because it nearly winds up coming out my nose. Instead, it spews onto my lap which causes Edward and Kate to fall over laughing at my expense.

We're having such a great time with only some Chinese food, a bad movie, and each others' company.

Unfortunately, all too soon Edward notices it's getting late, and Kate has school tomorrow, so her bed time is rapidly approaching.

I was going to ask Edward to show me the tie, but being a glutton for punishment, I ask if he would be a good sport and show us how the suit fit.

He tries to refuse at first, saying that the guy at the store took his measurements and gave him the suit that fit best, but he caves to the pressure when Kate joins in, wanting him to model it as well. I'm sure her reason has as much to do with simply postponing her bedtime a few minute, while my reason is much less innocent.

Five minutes later, Edward comes out of the bedroom wearing a classic black, single breasted, one button tuxedo with a wing tip shirt, black tie, with ebony buttons and cuff links, black patent leather shoes, messy hair, and two days' worth of stubble, and for the love of everything holy, I'm glad I'm sitting down.

This night has been a perfect trifecta of Edward hotness.

How was I not overly affected by this before?

He always looked this good, and I knew it. But now, when I look at him, it all but knocks the wind out of me, and I have to remind myself to breathe.

Thankfully Kate is there to run interference. She distracts him from looking in my direction by running up and saying she has the most handsome daddy in the whole world. She plows into him from her seated position, hurling herself upward as he stands nearby, hugging him very roughly around his waist. This causes him to automatically flinch and quickly move his hips backward in instinctual protectiveness of the family jewels.

If Kate hadn't threatened his manhood, he might have seen what must have been a dumbstruck expression on my face. Drool and all.

Dear God! He certainly can fill out a tux.

The tie is hanging around his collar, and honestly, GQ magazine has nothing on this man.

"Well, I guess Kate likes it. Do you think it's okay, Bella?" He asks genuinely, as if he really has no idea of the physical perfection that I'm currently a witness to.

"You look VERY handsome, Edward. I've only seen you in a suit a couple times and you looked great, but a tuxedo…WHOA." I'm aware I'm gushing like a fangirl, but I can hardly help it.

His face lights up, and he stands a little straighter with his chest puffed out at my comment.

"Well, thanks for the compliments, ladies, but I still need to learn how to tie this thing."

I walk up to him and steel my resolve to get through this as painlessly as possible. Thank the heavens that Kate is here, or there is no telling what I would do to him right now.

I feel my body starting to warm.

I know this feeling; it is need simmering just under the surface, but never have I felt this way from merely being in someone's presence.

The current that I feel whenever he's close seems to be stronger than ever. It flows into me and makes it increasingly difficult to stay focused. I want this feeling to continue, to grow in intensity until it reaches an undeniable peak.

I want to touch, to feel with more than just my hands—with my body, with my soul. I want to feel him in every way possible. I want to see him on top of me, under me, behind me, beside me. I want to see him lose himself in me with the undeniable passion that I know is burning within him, and within me. I want to explore this together.

If I feel this strongly just standing next to him, I believe that he could be the one to awaken a long dormant part of me. One that is desperate to be set free. There is more within me, more than I have ever experienced. This I know, and I want to find this with Edward.

I shake my head and wonder at what point I became a slut. It's either that, or I've channeled a tacky romance novelist.

However, for now I have to stoically teach Bow Tie 101 to a man that seems to not even notice the shaking of my hand or the blush I feel coloring my cheeks.

He seems completely unaffected by my closeness; meanwhile, I'm a mess. Well, as much of a mess as I can be with a young girl bearing witness to my depravity.

I take a deep calming breath and look often at Kate, as she's keeping me moored to reality.

I show him once, verbalizing the instructions. He imitates my moves, and by the second time he's doing it perfectly. Kate also learns quickly and a half dozen perfect bow ties are made.

After Edward changes back into his jeans, Kate gives me a hug goodnight and Edward proceeds to tuck her in while I clean up what's left of dinner.

When Edward comes out, he gives me a big smile and sits right next to me on the couch. It's almost nine thirty, and I should be going home.

As much as I want to stay, I think I have had enough excitement for tonight. It's best that I leave soon. I can't trust myself after seeing Edward in all forms of dress and undress, tonight.

He puts one arm around my shoulder, saying that he missed me over the past few days and to thank me for helping him with the tie.

A sober hugging Edward. Hmmm, this is rather unusual. I hug him back with both arms, savoring this closeness, as it will be over momentarily.

A few seconds later I tell him that it's time for me to leave.

He understands and walks me to the door.

I'm feeling brave and I hug him once more with my goodbye. I begin the hug boldly, but this time he continues it and pulls me in so close. His head is bowed down breathing deeply near the nape of my neck, sending an electric sensation throughout every cell of my existence. His arms wrap tightly around me, his body completely flush with mine. I'm lost in this experience and I push toward him even more pressing the center of my body into him and boldly holding him by his hips and moving him even closer to me.

I feel him like I have never felt him before, and I wish I could have more. My breathing is heavier and I start to move into him ever so slightly. He pulls his upper body away from me looking down, trying to decipher if what he's feeling emanating from me is only his imagination, but his hips remain pressed close to me, not yet breaking contact and…I feel his body start to wake.

Our eyes meet, and I don't look away. I don't know what I'm doing, but something is happening here and it seems that I'm okay with being along for the ride. It's like his last morning at rehab all over again.

I can't tell what is going on in his mind but he suddenly pushes away from me as if he's being burned by our proximity. He roughly runs both his hands over his face and then up through his hair.

He says rather gruffly, "Uh yeah, so I guess I'll see you on Friday. Thanks again for the bow tie lesson, but you should go now. It's getting late."

"Okay, so yeah, Friday, I guess. Uhm, maybe I'll call you tomorrow night after I get home from work to coordinate everything?" It came out like a question. I have never had to ask permission to call him before, but now I suddenly feel very awkward and intrusive.

In an irritated tone I have never heard from him before he says, "Yeah, well, just so you know, I'm not gonna just wait for the phone to ring. I have a life, you know. Uh, yeah, so I think I'm gonna go to the pub tomorrow night. I'll get Emmett or Jasper to go with me for a few drinks."

What the hell is with the attitude all of a sudden?

I guess that is his way of telling me not to bother calling. "Right. Well, it's a good thing I asked first. I won't bother you then. I'll just talk to you…whenever." I turn away, feeling hurt by his sudden change in demeanor.

"Ah, shit! No. Jeez, Bella, wait. Wait. That's not what I meant. Hell, you never need to ask. You know you can call me any time. You never bother me. When you call tomorrow night, I'll move to a quiet spot in the pub and we can talk for as long as we need to get everything coordinated okay? I'm just feeling a bit on edge with the wedding and everything. I'm sorry, okay?"

"Whatever, Edward." My mood has taken a nose dive and I'm not letting him easily get away with being so nasty to me, regardless of his lame reason. I step down the front stairs and onto the walkway; he's right behind me with continued apologies. It seems every time we are together lately, it ends on a sour note.

He pleads, and once I turn around, he puts his hand out, but then thinks twice and doesn't touch me again. Instead, he looks at his hand next to my body and pushes it down to his side. That seems to be the core of the problem—when we come too close with words, or between our bodies, things start to get crazy. Our emotions run rampant and then we overcompensate, roughly swerving in the opposite direction to maintain our friendship and derail any other feelings that seem to break through.

I think he can sense something has changed with me and is confused by it, but that doesn't mean he's at liberty to hurt my feelings while trying to regain his composure.

"Please, Bella, call me tomorrow. I'm sorry. I'm acting like a jerk, but honestly, it's not an excuse, but… It's just that when you hugged me, well, I just got a little flustered. And, well…

"You'reabeautifulwomanandyoujustcan'texpectaguytot hinkstraightafterahuglikethatfriendornot."

Ahhh. So he got a little too worked up. His mood swings are giving me whiplash. I have to downplay the hug a bit if my argument will be valid. "I'm sorry if you were flustered by a hug, Edward, but that doesn't give you the right to be nasty to me in the next breath. I'll make sure not to hug you again to spare myself your wrath."

I step angrily into my truck and close the door between us as he jumps back as not to get hit with it.

"Belllllaaa, please. Don't leave yet, please. I'm sorry, believe me. I was wrong, I admit it. Look, I hug Emmett all the time, but he doesn't feel like THAT, I assure you. That just felt too good, Bella. I'm sorry I couldn't help it. I know that your only my friend…it's just that sometimes I can't seem to remember that important little detail when you're so close. I've tried but I just can't help it. I don't want you to get the wrong idea and then I don't know why but, I get nasty and push you away. I'm wrong, and I wish I could remain continuously unaffected by you, as if you are another sister to me, but sometimes it's a little difficult. Please forgive me?"

He is giving me his sad puppy dog eyes.

"Come on! I just put it all out on the table for you, Bella. There it is. No hiding. That's what was happening in my mind. Please, I'm willing to humiliate myself here for you to accept my apology."

I feel my determination to remain angry start to waver. He was certainly very forthcoming. "All right, Edward, I'm sorry too. It was my fault it started in the first place and I shouldn't have held on for that long. Honestly, I didn't want it to end because you feel really good to me, too."

With a smile, I wink, roll up my window and drive away as he stands there with a look of utter confusion on his face. I look back in my rearview mirror and notice both hands are in his hair again.

Well this night didn't go as I expected.

As I drive home, I realize that we are progressively moving closer to one another, and that at some point soon it will become undeniable. He's resisting, but maybe Alice is right. I think he might just feel the same way.

**A/N: Next chapter starts the wedding weekend.**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Thank you all for your patience while these two work out their issues. My plan is to post the next chapter shortly after this one since I'm afraid that some of you may be able to find out my real identity and come after me with pitchforks and torches.**

**Infinite thanks to kitchmill who is my beta, but these mistakes are mine because the longer the words sit on my computer, the more I pick at them.**

Chapter 15

Edward

It's Friday morning and my head is pounding. I feel terrible. I used to pride myself on the fact that I never got bad hangovers. Now, I think they're all catching up with me at once.

Last night, while I was at the bar, before I got too tanked-up, Bella called. Thankfully I managed to refrain from being obnoxious to her.

I've come to the conclusion that she just doesn't know how attractive she is. Maybe she doesn't realize she shouldn't go squeezing herself into me, because whether she's my best-friend-like-a-sister-to-me or not, she still isn't family—certain parts of my body can tell the difference.

I was kind of amused at her comment before she left. Yeah, right…I feel good to her too. Maybe the ol' Edward Cullen charm was in full effect; either that or she's just messing with me. I was far from charming her by snapping at her again. So, yeah, she's definitely messing with me.

For the life of me, though, I can't figure out why I'm having a hard time keeping my reactions in check. I've always tended to be a bit emotional, but it just seems to get worse lately.

Luckily, she wasn't acting any differently over the phone. We seemed to be back to normal. I really have to try harder to be on my best behavior around her. I shouldn't even drink too much because I can't be sure that I won't make a pass at her or something.

This is getting a bit complicated. I have to figure this out and stifle these urges before I mess up my friendship with her completely.

Last night, Bella and I made plans that we'd meet at her house and then go out for lunch on our way to the hotel, then check in by three.

Alice and Jasper will meet us down there a little later because they have to drop Jane off at Mom and Dad's house for the weekend.

Once Kate found out about Jane sleeping over Grandma and Grandpa's house, she wanted in too. Jane and Kate are like peas and carrots. My parents were only too happy to accommodate.

After a quick shower and a shave, I go over everything I packed to make sure I didn't forget anything. I even packed some condoms. Maybe Angela or Ben has some available distant cousin or something. I have to get Bella off my mind somehow.

I make my way over to Bella's place a bit early. It's only eleven thirty. I told her twelve o'clock, but she won't mind and I can wait.

I ring the doorbell and after a few minutes, she finally answers in a robe. She's running behind and hasn't even gotten into the shower yet, but otherwise, she's packed and ready to go.

She hits the shower and I hit the kitchen for a glass of orange juice.

The bachelor party for Ben is tonight and I promise myself to take it easy, especially since the wedding is tomorrow. I don't think it would be forgivable for me to vomit on the priest like a scene out of the Exorcist.

I will eventually need something greasy to soak up all the poison left behind in my blood stream from the the eleven shots of tequila I did last night. That stuff gets me every time. I contemplate a big fat hamburger with onion rings from the diner before we head out to the resort hotel.

Bella finishes in the shower and I congratulate myself that I didn't think about her wet, naked body in the next room—well, up until the point I congratulated myself for not thinking about it. Now, resisting the images that are invading my mind is futile.

Thinking about it isn't that bad, right? As long as I don't try to touch, everything will be fine.

I have no idea where my self-control has gone. I really need to punch myself in the junk because sometimes it's the bane of my existence. Lately, it's rather demanding.

Less than thirty minutes later, we're in the car and ready to go. I ask her if it is okay that we stop for a burger on the way. She tells me sure, but watches me carefully for a minute or two. It's rather unnerving.

"Would you quit looking at me like that?" I move my head to her then quickly back to the road a few times before she answers.

"I'm just trying to think of the last time you were in the mood for a hamburger," she says, still staring as she rubs her chin. The wheels in her head are turning and conspiring against me as we speak.

"It happens. I'm not that strict that I won't eat something greasy once in a while."

Then, it's as if a light bulb turns on over her head and her whole body shifts in her seat toward mine.

"You're hung over aren't you?"

I swear, she doesn't miss a trick, but I won't admit that to her face. "Maybe I'm just in the mood for a hamburger. Is that so hard to believe?"

There is a sinister smile on her face. It concerns me.

"Oh yeah! Mr. I-never-get-a-hangover is SOOOO hung over!" she says smugly and proceeds to turn up the radio—full blast.

I nearly drive off the road with the jolt of pain searing through my brain and quickly turn down the painful stimulus.

"Now why would you do that?!" She can't answer me because she is laughing too hard.

Is she out of her mind? That shit hurts!

"I thought you were my friend, Bella! Friends do try to not make friends' heads explode, you know."

When she finishes laughing at my expense, she gives me directions to a small restaurant, not far from our current location. She swears the place has a hangover cure that should be patented.

Fifteen minutes later, we're seated in a bustling little place that is nothing special to look at, but Bella assures me that they have just the remedy I need. She does the ordering when the waitress comes by.

She orders me the hangover special and a turkey club sandwich for herself. The waitress, who is easily in her early fifties, looks at me with a grin and a wink. It's not in a flirty way, but just to let me know she has what I need for my aching head.

The waitress arrives a short time later with our food. In front of me she places a large cheeseburger with cheddar cheese and fried onions, topped with a good amount of thin sliced ham and two eggs over easy, all smashed together on bun, and a side of French fries covered in cheese and swimming in brown gravy. To wash it down is a can of ginger ale.

"Well, if this doesn't cure my hangover, at least I won't feel it as much with the severe abdominal pain I'll have."

"That's what the ginger ale is for, silly," Bella says, as if this is blatantly obvious. "I've always thought they should include the option of an Alka-Seltzer chaser, but there must be some silly rule that they can't give out medication to their suffering customers. Anyway, they do sell them behind the counter with the aspirin and Motrin, so we'll get one with some water to go."

"I knew I kept you around for a reason. Aside from attempting to kill me by blaring the radio, you're all right."

We talk mostly about the wedding and what the weekend will have in store for us. Conversation flows between us easily, and before I realize it, my plate is empty. I can't believe I ate the whole thing. There was a patch of tiny, crunchy fries that avoided the gravy that Bella scooped up, but other than that, I shoved everything else down my throat.

On the way out, I pick up a few doses of stomach medicine, just in case.

Almost three hours later, we pull into the Running Brook Country Club Resort Hotel and Convention Center.

I feel like a new man, hangover officially gone, however I probably took in enough fat, calories, sodium, and cholesterol for the rest of the millennium.

The valet takes my car and we walk into the main entrance of the hotel to check in. The lobby area is huge, with a choice of a couple restaurants, bars, shops and a spa on one side, with separate meeting rooms and more formal ball rooms on the other.

Out back is an eighteen hole golf course with a separate sports lounge. There's a good amount of frontage on a large lake that is stocked with all sorts of game fish, with an area for paddle boat, canoe, and kayak rentals. There is a heated outdoor pool with a swim up bar, as well as an indoor pool and two hot tubs. Along the golf course are a bunch of paths for running, and farther down toward the outer edge of the property are a couple of trail heads that merge with trails in the state forest that the property borders.

I regret not knowing about this place sooner. It's really nice.

The tower elevators bring us to our rooms. Both have a single king size bed with a small lounge area and bar in the front. There's a nice sized bathroom with a large Jacuzzi tub and a huge separate shower with shower heads all over the thing. Note to self; that looks fun, invite a guest.

We are in the middle of a large block of rooms that Angela and Ben have on hold for their guests that takes up most of the floor. Some of guests are from out of state, but most of the locals have a room as well, since the drive is so long.

We are close to Alice and Jasper, as well as Rose and Emmett. My room and Bella's room are directly across the hall from each other. Mine has a view of the golf course, and Bella's a view of the English garden on the premises.

As I'm unpacking and settling into my room for the weekend, my phone buzzes with a text from Emmett. Apparently he just checked into room 705. I let him know that we are neighbors, since I'm in room 707 and told him to come on over whenever he is ready, because the cooler full of booze is in my room.

I'm taking it easy with drinking this weekend, but I'm probably the only one. I don't mind, because sometimes it's just as much fun to watch drunken people as it is to be the drunk.

Emmett and Rose are with Bella and are knocking on my door a short time later. We talk about our plans for the night which will start in a couple hours.

As it turns out, I find out from Rose that the girls will be going to a strip club for ladies tonight. I giggle a bit like a girl and whisper into Bella's ear that maybe she would have a better time if she came with us instead. She promptly smacks my arm, not finding my sense of humor amusing at all.

I think to myself that I should stop right now, or I'll be sure to piss her off again. I have to try being more of a gentleman with Bella. Somehow I've gotten off track lately, but I have to set things right again.

Alice and Jasper arrive almost an hour later and join us in my room for a little pre-celebration celebration. We are waiting for word from Angela and Ben to get the party started, which should be in an hour or so.

Once the girls and boys are separated for the night, we're all responsible to make sure that the happy couple doesn't stay the night together and keep them from seeing each other until Angela walks down the aisle. Therefore, Angela will stay with Bella, and Ben will bunk with me.

I laid down the rules already, and so far he hasn't objected. I'm getting the bed, king size or not, his drunken ass will not be sharing it with me. The last thing I need is to wake up with Ben in his alcohol induced stupor, thinking he's on his honeymoon and snuggling up to me. I'd have to beat him repeatedly about the head and face. Then Angela would be really mad at me because her wedding pictures would be ruined.

I already told Ben that the couch is closer to the bathroom, so that is where he'll be crashing. I also warned him that he is not allowed to puke on the floor, or anywhere that isn't the toilet. Nor will he be allowed to get so drunk that I'll be compelled to stay up all night making sure he remains breathing.

The guys' bus is set to leave at five fifteen; the ladies limo at five thirty. Ben and Angela separate for the night, as do the rest of the couples, and we're on our way.

On the bus, I start to nurse a beer. I don't want it to seem like I've gone soft, but I can't drink again tonight. I'm gonna take it slow.

Ben's best man, Eric, explains the plans for the night which includes a strip club and then another strip club. Like Bella said, very original.

The bus pulls up to our first destination. There is no room for it in the small parking lot, so the driver drops us off out in front. I come to the conclusion that he chose the seediest looking strip joint I have ever seen. It's fittingly named Scandals.

Once we are inside, I'm not sure I want to sit down, so I don't. It looked better from the outside. It smells of stale cigarette smoke, flat beer and cheap perfume. I notice the women look like they have been rode hard and put away wet. I'd be surprised if any of them were under thirty-five, which wouldn't be a bad thing if they had ever taken care of themselves. But, it seems as they had all seen better days after a really rough life. It was either that, or they were in their twenties and smoking meth. There are a few patrons lining the bar close to the stage and they make the ladies look like members of the royal family.

Eric gathers us together in a huddle. "Guys, just so you know, twenty bucks will get you a private lap dance in the back room. And by private lap dance, I mean blow job."

Umm, yeah, no thanks.

"Dude, are you serious?" Emmett whispers an octave too high for his stature. "Please don't tell us how you know this."

Everyone is siding with Emmett and seems sufficiently appalled at the notion. He's the only one that wants to take advantage of that deal and he does so without hesitation.

When Eric comes out of a back room, everyone unanimously tells him that we want to leave. We weren't there twenty minutes, I never even ordered a beer and I still feel like I need a shower.

The next place we go to is recommended by our bus driver, Quil. We couldn't trust Eric with the second choice after the enormity of his first failure. I don't think he even realized we didn't like the place, because he kept going on in detail about the hummer he just got, as if she changed his life.

Emmet shuts Eric up by saying, "Look, Eric, I know this is a big day for you, because no woman in their right mind would willingly put her mouth on you for free. But before I command you to shut the fuck up about it, I just want to know one thing. Did she keep her teeth in or did she leave them out and gum fuck you?"

Everyone laughed except for Eric, who was really pissed. I think he even considered taking a swing at Emmet for humiliating him. Luckily, for Angela's wedding photos, no amount of alcohol would make that little shit brave enough to take on Emmet. We would have to had stop by the local hospital to drop him off, which wouldn't be a bad idea, but Angela would probably be really mad. We can't upset the bride.

A few minutes later, we pull up to a juice bar which is right up my alley after last night.

Ben and most of the guys have been pounding shots on the way so they would have a healthy buzz by the time we got there. I'm just nursing another beer.

The Forbidden Fruit Juice Bar is our destination. Before we're even out of our seats, Eric is talking shit to Quil. "Hey, bus driver dude. Do ya think the groom could at least get a blow job in this place?"

At that point, I grab Eric and pull him off the bus. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you have any class at all?"

"Easy, bro. It's a fucking bachelor party for Christ's sake. What do you think we should do? Play board games? Maybe watch the Disney Channel?" He takes a couple steps backward as he speaks. Fucking coward.

"Listen, asshole, Ben doesn't need any fucking trouble from you."

"Yeah, well, Ben's a big boy now. What he doesn't need is you as his chaperone," He yells at me while walking away quickly. I'm going to have to keep an eye on this guy.

Quil looks at me and mockingly asks, "Friend of yours?"

I just shake my head and sigh.

"I see it a lot. There's usually one in every bus load."

"Hey, man. Why don't you come inside? I'll buy you an orange juice."

"Make it a club soda and you got yourself a deal." He slaps me on the back as we walk in together.

Once my eyes adjust to the dimly lit interior, I notice the dancers on stage are surprisingly cute and in some cases, completely naked.

As expected, there's no shortage of bouncers in the place as well. Some of them made Emmett look as scrawny as Eric. The rule is that no touching is allowed anywhere other than the garters they wear for their tips.

I have to admit, after a short time, my pants are getting a bit tight. Eric is complaining that we should go back to the dive we were at before, but he is the only one that wants some skanky crack whore sucking on his cock, or worse.

We all chip in to get Ben a slightly modified lap dance. The dancers exposed nether regions never come into contact with any laps; instead there is a lot of hovering and her hands on his body, mostly above the belt. I fell a bit depraved, but I can't look away. After watching Ben's, I put up some money for my own.

For my private dance, I get a petite brunette who is really cute and really naked. Like most of the girls, she is waxed, but a little strip is left behind. She straddles my hips, and there's no concealing my erection at this point.

"It's obvious you like what you see," she whispers in my ear. She takes one hand and palms me roughly through my jeans. "I like what I see, too."

I don't know if that is an invitation, but I don't pay for sex, ever.

"I want to touch you and make you feel good. For one fifty, we could go in the back room for a private dance."

I really thought this place was better than that. I politely decline. It's not the money. Like I said, I don't pay for sex. I can give myself a hand-job for free later tonight. She shoves her tits in my face and palms me again. This time, she doesn't let up. I think she is trying to make me change my mind. I whisper in her ear, "Thanks, but my song is over now."

She frowns at me and leaves in a snit. I don't know how many guys she gives an invitation to on any given night, or out of those, how many take her up on the offer, but I don't think she's used to too many guys asking her to stop dancing for them. I'm okay with being her first.

Now Ben—he thinks a little hand job at his bachelor party isn't a big deal. All the while, Eric keeps telling him that he wants to take him back to Tammy at the other bar that will let him fuck her up the ass for fifty bucks.

I barely even know Eric, but at this point, I'm going to punch him in the head. I don't know if it's the fact that he wants his buddy to get some kind of disease back at the other place to match his, or if he is too cheap to pony up the extra money here. Either way, Eric is a shithead and Ben is looking for trouble. I can't let that happen.

I quickly ask Ben—who is now sorely now tempted for the hundred fifty dollar hand job from the girl who left me for greener pastures on Ben's lap—if it would be okay if Angela gets off with one of the strippers at her party.

If looks could kill, I'd be slaughtered.

He staggers over and drunkenly grabs my shirt in an attempt to look tough. "A'course it would NOT fuckin' be okay! Thasss my girl. We're gettin' married ta'maro. WHY? WHAT DO YOU KNOW?" Now he's agitated.

I put both my up to reinforce my point. "I don't know anything except she's going to a strip club too. I just asked because, if you go and pay that girl to rub one out for you, then you must be okay with Angela getting off as well. You know, it's only fair."

"Fuck that, Cullen! No one is goin' to lay a hand on 'er. Do ya' hear me? NO ONE!" He pokes his finger into my chest hard and repeatedly, and, just this one time—he gets a pass.

"All right, Ben. No problem, man. I guess that you shouldn't get off either then, right?" I ask.

Eric is telling Ben not to listen to me because I'm a pussy. Now, I really want to hit this guy. And he's still talking about the other dump; thankfully Ben is not interested in going back for a cheap, dirty fuck.

Ben finally tells Eric to back off, and that he just wants to get drunk and look at naked women.

Whew. I think he just saved his marriage-to-be.

Emmett and Jasper seem to be biding their time until they can get back and ravage their wives, who will probably be just as worked up after their night out. A lot of texts are flying back and forth between them and their ladies.

My mind wanders to Bella. I wonder how her night is going. I know women can be just as rowdy as men at these places, especially because women usually only go on special occasions.

I bet she's having a good time. If nothing else, just laughing at the human condition is amusing, even if she isn't into men. Let alone strange men who are probably wearing only cuff links, a bow tie, and some ridiculously small pair of girly panties. I have to wonder, how do they keep their junk contained in that thing? Especially if they have a bunch of little hotties clawing at each other to touch said junk, how do they not get a boner? They must only hire dudes who can fit into the tiny panties, or ones who prefer hotties of a different gender. That must be the answer.

The rest of the night, we wind up having a pretty good time. Ben is drunk off his ass. I pray he doesn't puke all over our room tonight and that he'll be sober by the time the wedding starts tomorrow afternoon. If he is still hung over for his own wedding…well, that's his problem, not mine.

Just before two o'clock, we're back at the hotel. The wedding is thirteen hours away, and I walk Ben to our room and pour him onto the pull out sofa bed. I make him drink a bottle of water before I take his shoes off and let him sleep in his clothes.

He has taken my advice and intermittently switched up his drinks with water during the night, which will hopefully help with any hangover issues when he wakes up. I neglected to take my own advice the night before and look where that got me.

The girls aren't back yet, so I text Bella and let her know that the coast is clear, and Ben is tucked into my room, already snoring.

She texts me back with a lot of spelling errors. Apparently she isn't using autocorrect on her phone tonight. That, and she is probably almost as drunk as Ben.

We r on r way bacj. Agelas runk too had to puul over twicw for herto pike. Had her drink warter but it dint stay done. Gonnabe a long nite.

I text her again and ask if they had a good time.

Her reply surprises me.

Was asemome! Dancing on stafe w guys, lauging so hard when Ang did a srip tease, evywone cheered, we hadto stop her cause shew as really getting nakd. So funney, u shuldhav ben there.

I was happy their outing was a success, but I don't think it would have been cool if I were there to witness Angela taking her clothes off, nor would I be too happy to have a bunch of waxed metrosexual boys wagging their junk in my face. I told her ours was not as fun and that Eric is a twit.

Ang says she don't lke him too, but hes Bens frend sice highshool.

Another garbled text rapidly follows. She may be a little drunk, but she can still text as fast as a teenage girl.

Pullng up now, c u indide. Fyi if u wer with us, I wooda danced foru. Jsyk.

What the hell does she mean by that? She must be even drunker than I thought.

I leave a snoring Ben to help Bella wrangle Angela into their room.

When I get to the lobby, I see a group of drunk, but happy girls. Bella seems pretty tipsy herself, but not as bad as Angela, who is stumbling over her own feet. With slurred speech and more than a little spittle shot in my direction she asks, "Edwor, did any whore touch my man? You'd bedder fuckin tell me…"

"Angela, I assure you, I would never let that happen. You have nothing to worry about."

She eyeballs me up and down for a good long time after my answer. Finally deciding that I'm telling the truth, she stumbles away.

Bella wraps her arms around me for a hug. "You know, Edward, you should getta job as a dancer in tha' place."

Whoa, it looks like someone tipped back a few. All I could do was chuckle and look around nervously to see how many people overheard her comment.

"You mighta' forgotten, but I've seen you naked. I know you'd be a hit." All the while she is still hanging on to me with her arms around my neck.

Christ, she's stewed.

"Ummm, uh. Well…"

I can't find any words.

Thankfully, Rose and Alice can, so they promptly scold her for trying to ruin their night with the image of me naked. At this point, I'll take the insult over the awkward flirting from my gay best friend, who also happens to be the hottest woman on the planet, as far as I'm concerned.

One of the other girls that went with them is Lauren, who apparently is Angela's friend and also her brother's wife's sister.

She asks to be introduced to me.

She's around the same age as the girls, with blondish hair and brown eyes. She has those ridiculously long fingernails that are done up with paint and rhinestones and jut out about a few inches from her fingertips, and she is quite thick, probably about thirty to forty pounds overweight. She has an annoying voice that's hopefully only present when she's drunk.

She's wearing a denim skirt that seems to be at least one size too snug, especially around her waist, causing an unfortunate muffin top side effect. It seems she is trying to distract from that fashion no-no by wearing a very low-cut top to accentuate what seems to be her biggest asset. And I mean her biggest asset.

Adorning every possible body surface area available is some sort of jewelry—rings on every finger, bracelets, necklaces, two sets of earrings, anklets, a nose stud, eyebrow ring and her tongue is pierced, which I think she makes sure I couldn't help but notice. She definitely wouldn't make it through a metal detector with all that paraphernalia, but I have to say, I do like tongue piercings.

Everything about her screams high maintenance and high bitch potential.

On the other hand, she has a pretty face and if she didn't try so hard, she could be much more attractive. For all I know she could be a really nice girl, so I'll keep an open mind.

Bella makes the introduction, and before she even finishes her sentence, Lauren rudely interrupts her and says to me giggling, "So you're the Edward that I've heard about. Angela has shown me a picture, but I have to say, you're even easier to look at in person. It seems like you and I are paired up for the wedding tomorrow…Oh, that will be so much fun! I'm like, your date!"

Bella replied quickly, and sounding less drunk than before, "No, Edward is paired with Alice. Not you."

Lauren is now cold in her response. "Well that can be easily corrected. I'll talk to Angela in the morning. Bella, Edward isn't your boyfriend, is he? Why should you care? You said earlier that you don't have a boyfriend. Yet, you seem to be hanging all over him. Why is that?"

Oh, this should be good.

I stand back and watch my girl sharpen her claws. To the untrained eye, Bella comes off as a kitten, but I know better.

"No, he's not my boyfriend but he IS my BEST FRIEND, Lauren. And you can back off, NOW. If I want to give him a hug, then I will," Bella says, caustically. It seems that any slur she had before has disappeared. She seems as sober as a priest.

But Lauren isn't so easily deterred. "So, Edward, do you have a girlfriend?"

"Uh, no, Lauren. I don't." Well, it seems she isn't so sweet after all, in fact she seems like a real piece of work.

I don't need sweet and she seems interested, so I leave it at that. I am a fan of tongue piercings.

I just wish this wasn't happening in front of Bella. She seems to be a bit on the territorial side tonight.

"Good. Well maybe we can dance to a couple songs together tomorrow, and then who knows what else we could do to celebrate this happy event," she says in an overly sweet voice, looking up through her lashes.

"Uh, yeah, sure. That sounds good. I guess I'll see you tomorrow then." Shit. Bella is really throwing me off here. I don't want to marry this girl, but…did I mention I like tongue piercings?

Bella now seems pretty pissed, as do Rose and Alice. Unfortunately, their anger seems to be directed at me.

Rose whispers in my ear that I'm a world class asshole and Alice is shaking her head at me.

What the hell did I do?

Lauren was the one who hit on me. Completely unprovoked, I might add.

Why is it that no one wants me to get laid anymore? Since when is this a crime?

Okay, I get it. They think I'm a dog. But honestly, I don't have a girlfriend and I make no promises to anyone. They know it all ahead of time. If they still want to have a good time, why is that so much of a problem?

Bella starts talking to Rose and Alice, but her eyes never leave me. "You know ladies, I'm suddenly feeling as if I could vomit, and I don't think it's the alcohol."

Now I know she is pissed when she walks right past me, bumping into my arm as she walks by without so much as a second glance.

Rose, who never pulls any punches, physically drags Lauren with them as they leave for the elevators. Lauren is protesting that she isn't tired yet.

Rose's angry voice comes out. "You don't have to go to sleep Lauren, but you do have to go back to your room. Alone. You also have the option of me knocking you the fuck out right now. Your choice."

I just stand there with a blank look on my face, wondering what the hell just happened.

Oh well, there goes an easy lay. I guess I have a date with my hand tonight after all. But, there's always tomorrow.

I don't care how often Rosalie gets laid, why should she care or try to affect how often I do?

Sitting alone in the lobby bar a short while later, I think about Bella and I'm so confused, it seems as if Bella was flirting with me. Then she got mad when Lauren was all but staking her claim on me for the weekend.

I send Bella a text.

Are you mad at me for some reason?

Five minutes later, I get a text back that simply says, No.

No? Huh. It seemed like she was. I guess I was wrong. Sometimes I just can't tell with Bella. Why are women so difficult to understand?

I wish I knew what was going on in her mind. It drives me nuts that I just can't figure her out sometimes.

I text her back. Okay, good. You seemed mad at me and I didn't know what I did to deserve it. Do you want to come down to the all night lounge for a soda with me? Alice said she is waking everyone up at 11 so you have a bit of time to kill and you'll still get a decent amount of sleep.

Again I have to wait another five minutes for her response. No.

I know it shouldn't take her that long to answer me, but I'll give her the benefit of the doubt, maybe she was in the shower.

The more I think about it, the more I realize I should have called her. I don't care what she says—I think she's mad and I don't think she was in the shower.

She's a lousy liar, especially in person. I know sometimes text messages don't portray the whole story, but I just wish I knew exactly what I did to make her mad at me.

Something is definitely going on with Bella.

Women…I'll never understand them.

With that, I go back up to my room to get some sleep.

**A/N: Just give me one more chance…I promise they will redeem themselves.**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Thank you for reading and for each of my reviews. Even the hate.**

**And thank you to my beta kitchmill who makes the mess that I put onto paper understandable, but yet I've probably done irreparable harm by fiddling, so these mistakes are all mine**.

Chapter 16

Edward

The next morning, there is a flurry of activity by the ladies in the confines of the brides suite that is audible in the hallway of the hotel. There is laughing and a noticeable nervous excitement.

On the other hand, the guys, especially me, are just relieved that Ben made it through the night unscathed, and incredibly, with no sign of a hangover this morning.

However, I hope the cheap bourbon Eric was drinking left him crippled. Either that or I hope he got crotch rot from that prostitute he was with. Unfortunately, he's Ben's best man. This is bad. Since Angela's original matron of honor had a baby less than a week ago and is at home, still recovering from her C-section, Bella has been appointed as Angela's new maid of honor. This, of course, means Eric will be paired up with Bella in the wedding party.

I don't like it.

I don't even want him holding her arm. Someone so vile should not be permitted to touch someone so good and perfect…even if she's being particularly moody and slow to answer my texts lately.

My thoughts about Bella are interrupted by a text from Alice that she will be my new partner and to stay far away from Lauren or I will be castrated.

Why is she intent on telling me what I can and can't do? Last I checked, I'm a grown man, I go to work, pay my taxes and provide for my daughter. I don't do drugs, I drink on rare occasion, twice, this past year to be exact, I don't gamble, I don't solicit prostitutes, and I'm not a criminal. Now, I'm getting shit over my sex life.

This past year I've had sex five times. ONLY five times in twelve months! Granted, I'm not with the same person twice, but I have my reasons for that. The bottom line is, it's my choice, no one else's. My sister should stay the hell out of my business. Why the hell does she care so much about who I have sex with anyway?

No matter how much I want to stuff my sister into her giant suitcase and lock her in the closet for the weekend, I can't stay aggravated for too long because soon I'll have to put on a smile. The pre-ceremony pictures are now scheduled for two o'clock for the guys and two twenty for the ladies. Since Angela and Ben opted out of a church wedding, the ceremony is taking place in one of the ball rooms, starting at three.

I hop in the shower at one o'clock while Ben is off with his parents in their room getting ready for his big day. By one thirty I am clean, dressed, freshly shaved, and ready to go. Best of all, my tie is in a perfect bow.

I meet up with Ben, his parents, his brother, and Eric for the guys' pictures. We all have a drink during the photos.

Ben is starting to look nervous, and I think he needs something a little stiffer than wine. Lucky for him, I brought a flask of some bourbon and pull it out of my back pocket. He thanks me and takes a swig big enough to settle his nerves, and then some. I won't let him get drunk; Angela would be pissed. I take back the flask that he lets go of reluctantly, and give him some gum. Like the Boy Scout I am, I always come prepared.

Thankfully, Ben's nerves clear up once the ceremony begins. He stands tall, waiting for his wife-to-be with confidence and eagerness.

The music starts and everyone seems to turn in unison to the back doors of the hall. The flower girl, Alice and Lauren march in, but when Bella appears at the end of the processional, her smile lights up the entire room. Her hair is up with just a few wavy mahogany strands hanging down artfully onto her shoulders. Her flawless, ivory skin is in such contrast to the dark blue of her dress that it is almost worthy of a few tears. Her petite form fills out every lovely feminine curve the dress allows with an allure that I wish I could turn away from. Even though Alice and Lauren are wearing the same dress, there is only Bella in my eyes. She is absolutely stunning. I hear Eric grunt as he takes notice of her as well. I'm not going to let him spoil this moment for me so I pretend to ignore him.

I know the bride is the main event, but all I can see is Bella as she is standing on the other side of the podium. She briefly notices my stare and the blush from her cheeks makes my breath hitch. Dear God, this is torture.

Mercifully, I hear the words "You may kiss the bride." a lot sooner than I expected, and just like that, Ben and Angela are man and wife, and the celebration begins.

None of us is overdoing it at the open bar except for Eric, the resident asshole. He's been shadowing Bella all evening and it's pissing me off. During a slow dance, he brings her out onto the dance floor.

How dare he attempt to pollute one of the most pristine individuals I know with the filth that just rolls off of him. I'm not going to just stand by and allow him to get that close to her, God knows what's going through his mind. He's all over her like a bad rash, so I ask to cut in. As nicely as possible, she turns me down. I stand there with my mouth open for a few seconds, unsure if I heard her correctly.

With a haughty look, Eric lifts his chin in the direction of my table and tells me to sit back down. Bella acknowledges my continued presence with only a small uncomfortable smile.

I sit at my table watching him carefully He tries to move closer to her, yet despite his persistence, she keeps a healthy distance. Thankfully, before much longer I notice her whispering something to him, and moments later, he seems to redirect his attention elsewhere. She must have told him to pound salt…kinda like what she did to me.

That's my girl.

I'm not deterred. The DJ plays another slow song and I walk up to Bella and take her hand. I look her in the eyes and once again, she blushes. She allows me to dance with her this time.

I wrap my arms around her as the melody of _What a Wonderful World_ fills the hall. "Hey, you." I finally smile down at her and she returns the same. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Edward."

"Oh, well, I just thought you weren't acting yourself since last night and I thought…uhm, never mind. I'm just glad you're dancing with me now. But just do me a favor and stay away from Eric. Don't let him get you alone anywhere, I don't trust that guy one bit."

We sway back and forth to the song and with each moment I start to feel better.

"Don't worry, I don't plan on having to interact with him again. And I'm sorry I didn't let you cut in. The song just started and I didn't want to be rude, but I'm glad we're dancing now."

She's always caring about other people and is so considerate of their feelings. All I feel when I look at Eric is disgust. It's just another thing that makes me realize how inferior I am to her. Just about every day, she says or does something that reminds me how lucky I am to be in her life.

I look at her in admiration and I almost forgot I didn't tell her how beautiful she looks yet.

I almost jump at her to do so now.

She startles at my abrupt movement. "Uh, sorry. I just remembered, though, I wanted to tell you before, but I didn't get the chance. Uhm, you look really great. You know, I thought the purpose of the bride's maid dresses were to be so ridiculous that it makes the bride look that much better. Bella, as far as I'm concerned, you stole the show."

"Oh, Edward! That's very sweet." She kisses my cheek and I feel like a school boy who just got his first kiss from the pretty girl next door. It's innocent but it makes my heart swell with joy.

All too soon our song is over and Alice drags Bella off to the ladies room giggling, on some sort of official business.

Not ten minutes later while I'm talking to Emmett at our table, minding my own business, mid-sentence, Lauren marches over and sits in my lap. She puts her arms around my neck and smiles at me. Unsure how I should respond to her obvious attempt to get my undivided attention, I turn to Emmett. His eyes ask the question and I respond with a quick shrug to one shoulder and a double eyebrow raise showing my uncertainty. This is unexpected since I haven't so much as sneezed in her direction all night.

She is beginning to make it abundantly clear that she is interested in getting into my pants.

"The wedding's been so much fun, but I didn't get enough time to spend with you so far. I want to make it up to you. As soon as they cut the cake, we should go back to my room," she whispers in my ear.

I'm torn. On one hand, I need to get my mind off Bella, but on the other, I don't even want to. Thinking about Bella is the one thing that grounds me, that keeps me sane, but at the same time, my thoughts are becoming increasingly inappropriate. She doesn't need that kind of attention from me, so maybe this distraction would do me good.

Why am I even hesitating? My sister must be rubbing off on me.

Lauren licks my ear with her piercing upping the ante.

I ask Emmett keep an eye on Eric for the rest of the night.

I'll worry about the fact that my sister will be pissed later.

At that point, Emmet shakes his head, stands and walks away. I suppose Alice's attitude is rubbing off on him too. Come to think of it, Rose hasn't been too friendly to me lately either. I just don't understand why the hell everyone is giving me grief about getting laid. Now, even Emmett.

Lauren giggles at me and says that she knows this is just for the weekend and she starts kissing my neck. I close my eyes as my body slowly responds.

Everything changes a few moments later. Even with my eyes closed, I can sense her near me. I always could. I don't know how to describe it, but I can feel her presence all around me. It doesn't matter that my mind is currently preoccupied with sex, or that my eyes are closed and my sense of smell is currently overwhelmed by the enormous quantity of perfume Lauren has doused herself with, every nerve ending in my body is in tune with the fact that Bella is close by.

My eyes open quickly. I jump up, launching Lauren off my lap. I'm startled; it's as if I have been caught doing something I shouldn't have. As expected, I see Bella standing right in front of me. What I didn't expect was her sad expression; tears are lining her eyes, about to spill.

She shakes her head and swipes at the wetness on her cheek. "I just wish I never met you." Her voice is soft, dejected, with a hint of resignation.

She turns and just about runs out of the reception hall.

I abruptly move around Lauren who is standing in my way and run after Bella. Junior is no longer in a happy mood after seeing the expression on Bella's face.

Again, I have no idea why that just happened, but she is damn well going to explain it all, and she is going to do it tonight. I'm done playing games.

Why would she say such a thing? Is it jealousy? Over Lauren? Why?

Lauren is running after me, breathlessly asking what I'm doing.

I stop and turn. "Lauren, please. Uhm, I have to take care of this, just go back to the reception and have a good time."

"Look, you have a choice here, her or me. If you don't turn around now, then just forget it," she pants.

What is it with women giving me these ultimatums? Don't they know Bella will always be my priority?

I instantly turn and walk away while she curses me out, calling me a pussy and telling me that I wasn't worth it anyway.

I just laugh to myself, that's the second time in two days someone called me a pussy, and I'm starting to worry that there may be some truth to that statement.

I find Bella sitting at one of the hotel's bars, sipping a glass of wine, no ice. Her eyes are puffy and red, and it breaks my heart to see her sad. I don't know exactly why she is crying, but I know it's because of Lauren. The problem is, this shouldn't be bothering her, but it is and it doesn't make sense anymore. It's as if she is interested in me as more than just a friend. I stuff that ridiculous notion back down into my, only-in-a-perfect-world file and try to imagine what the real reason could be.

Well, I guess I wasn't too happy with Eric slathering his depravity all over her earlier either, but that's different. He's a douche.

I sit next to her and ask the bartender for a Guinness, my first alcoholic beverage of the night aside from the toast.

I busy myself with my wallet, taking out some cash to pay for both our drinks. I wait for her to talk, but she's pretending I'm not there.

"Bella, could you please tell me what just happened? Why are you in here crying?"

"I'm not crying anymore. I'm done crying. There'll be no more crying." She blots away the last of her tears and steadies herself, sure in her declaration.

"Okay, go it. So no more crying. But you're still upset, even without the tears. Please tell me why." I lightly touch her hand with my fingertips for some kind of connection. It lasts only for a brief moment because she jumps away from the contact. It sickens me because I feel as if something is different between us.

She is contemplating her response as a small band is setting up. It looks like the place has live music on Saturday nights. It'll probably be too loud to hold a conversation soon, so I tell her to hold her thoughts and follow me.

She's hesitant at first, but complies when I tell her, "Bella, you have to know how much you mean to me. Something has changed between us lately, and I know I've done something to make you unhappy. I need to know what it is so I can correct it. Okay?"

The elevator ride is quiet as we both awkwardly watch the floor numbers on the display change slowly. Her arms remain folded across her chest. My hands are burrowed in my pockets. I want to touch the softness of her cheek where her tears have since dried. I want to break this new, uncomfortable silence that surrounds us, but I don't…not yet.

Once we arrive at the seventh floor, we walk down the corridor to my room and I fumble to get the keycard from my pocket. My heart is pounding forcefully in my chest causing the blood to thunder through my ears. For the first time ever, Bella is causing me this anxiety, not relieving it.

I open the door for her and she sits down on the couch in the parlor area. I don't want to crowd her so choose to sit directly across from her.

I assume that she is going to do that feminine thing and not give up much information without me begging for it, so I cut to the chase and get on with the begging. "Bella, I don't know what I did to make you so upset. I don't like to see you cry, and I don't want you to be angry with me. Whatever it is, we can fix it, but you have to help me out a little. Please tell me what's going on."

She doesn't hesitate with her answer. "I don't like you being with Lauren. She's awful. You're going to sleep with her aren't you?"

That was blunt, forthcoming and rather surprising. It catches me off guard.

"Uh, yeah, well, not anymore. She was offering, I suppose, but then you got mad at me, so I went after you. Then she went after me. I told her to leave and go back to the reception. Well, she didn't like that too much. So, the short answer is no, I'm not going to sleep with her."

Frustrated, I run my hands through my hair. It wasn't all that meticulous to start with anyway, now I'm sure it's pure chaos up there. I can never keep it neat. No matter, the pictures are over anyway.

I continue, "Why didn't you just tell me sooner? Alice warned me, but she's always in my business. I value your opinion, Bella, and if you don't like a girl, then I'll take your advice. I know she's annoying, but out of curiosity, why don't you like her?"

"Edward, she's not you type. She is dimwitted, obnoxious and ruthlessly opinionated about things she has no idea about. She is so not your type. She doesn't deserve you."

"I know what you mean, but I don't want to spend the rest of my life with her. I'd actually be surprised if I could endure the rest of the weekend…but we talked about this, didn't we? All wrong is all right, remember? Anyway, I don't know why everyone is all of a sudden so interested in my sex life."

She looks unhappy again and I distinctly see more tears welling in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Edward, you're right. I'm not being a very good friend. Emmett wouldn't do this to you. You should go back down to Lauren and apologize. Maybe it's not too late. With any luck you could be getting what you want from her within the hour."

I look at her with a sad smile. "Bella, stop. I'm not going anywhere. I don't want to be anywhere else than with you right now. YOU are my priority. If you didn't know it already, you mean the world to me. You're not another Emmett. You're my Bella, and there's nothing I wouldn't do for you.

"So please don't cry. I love you, and I hate that I'm hurting you, but you're confusing the hell out of me."

I sigh loudly. "Don't you see? All I do lately is make you upset with me lately. I can't read your mind. You know you mean so much to me, but I need you to be one hundred percent honest about what you expect from me so I don't continue to disappoint you. Tell me how I can do better, beautiful girl."

Whoa, where did that term of endearment come from?

Tears are once again falling down Bella's cheeks and she looks away from me. I cross over and kneel in front of her, taking her face in my hands and brushing off her tears. She looks so beautiful, even when she is crying, but it breaks my heart. My hands almost tingle as my fingers gently touch her skin. There's an energy about her that I can feel and it just gets more intense the closer I get.

"Please, Bella. I don't want to make you cry anymore."

She finally looks into my eyes for what seems like an eternity, and I don't look away. I need her to know I am honest when I tell her that I care about her and that I love her.

What happens next seems to make time stand still. Her eyes move to my lips, and she leans forward and softly kisses me.

I'm stunned and rendered motionless on contact, wondering if it was somehow accidental.

The energy between us intensifies exponentially when she does it again. This time a little more urgently as she gently takes my lower lip between my teeth.

Nope, that was definitely not an accident.

Without conscious thought, I move to kiss her back. She moans slightly into my mouth and puts her hands in my hair, pulling me to her as she moves her tongue over my lips. Her kiss is perfection and within a few moments, I'm losing myself in the sensation.

My hands move of their own volition, one goes to her neck and one to her lower back, pulling our bodies close together. The passion I feel between us is completely consuming and undeniable.

A minute later, she breaks away and breathlessly kisses my neck. "I need you, Edward. I need all of you."

Without further provocation, my last conscious thought is the awareness that my body and mind have completely disengaged from each other. There is only touch and sound and taste and smell and sight; my senses are overwhelmed by this incredibly beautiful woman before me.

I want more—I want it all. I move to stand up and walk us closer to the bed. She is standing confidently in front of me as I look down to her face and body.

I gently move my hand to her lips, and she kisses each finger gently. My other hand moves softly down to the neckline of her dress, and I lightly brush up against one breast. She takes my index finger into her mouth, moaning as she pushes her breast outward into my hand.

Oh God.

"Edward, please, touch me."

I move my lips to her neck as my hand explores her upper body. She moans and moves her hands to the side zipper of her dress. I move backwards half a step as she unzips it. Her dress slips away from her body, onto the floor, leaving her in a strapless black bra, black lace panties, thigh high stockings and heels.

A delicate solitaire diamond necklace adorns her neck and reminds me of her inner beauty as well as what I see before me, which is every man's fantasy. I look at her indulgently, drinking in her appearance.

"My God, Bella, you're so beautiful."

I want to delicately touch all of her exposed skin, especially the curve of her waist and the swell of her breasts. I almost feel as if I touch her too roughly, she'll vanish and I'll wake up from my dream. But she is having none of that. She moves back to my lips aggressively, and I find myself lost in desire.

There is no more slow or delicate, there is only want and need fueling my movements.

There is no yesterday. There is no tomorrow. There is only now.

She moves to take off my jacket and starts unbuttoning my shirt. She pushes one hand inside and moves over my chest, as her other hand begins to unbutton my pants. I slip my hand into her panties. I rub her gently, and she is moaning into my mouth before I slide my fingers lower, allowing them to be covered in her desire.

"Jesus, Bella, you're so wet."

I move my fingers deeper into her and am met with her hips moving forward and back again, riding my fingers. She is so tight and warm. The heat from inside her is engulfing not only my fingers but my entire being. I want this so much; I feel an energy moving between us that will not be denied.

All I can think about is tasting her by bringing my hand to my mouth, and then my mouth to her body. I do just that.

She whimpers as I move my hand away from her and bring it to my mouth.

Anything my imagination could have come up with about the way she tastes is nothing compared to reality. She smiles at my actions. My pants are loose around my waist and my shirt is unbuttoned. I move her backwards to lay across the bed with her legs on the floor.

I pull her panties down to her feet that are still in her heels, and I want so much of her. I want to bury myself in the woman that is before me, naked and beautiful.

My mouth moves first to her breasts, opening her front clasp bra, displaying them perfectly for me. I take each nipple in my mouth while my hands are supporting me above her. She tastes amazing, I can't get enough. I need more. I move my mouth down her belly and kneel between her legs, which are bent slightly at her knees and spread widely awaiting me. She moves up onto her elbows to watch me as my mouth lingers near her briefly so I can appreciate this moment. I'm lost in my senses again. So much perfection, everything I have ever wanted is laid out before me.

I move in without mercy, and she responds in kind. She grinds herself to my mouth, my name on her lips over and over again.

I can only move forward, nothing else existing except what is happening now. I can't get close enough, like a dying man moving toward his salvation.

One leg is now on my shoulder, the other on the bed, and Bella's head is tilted backwards as she moans out in appreciation. Her movements toward me are increasing in pace as she gets increasingly louder. I move slightly so I can slide two fingers into her, while my mouth and tongue focus higher onto where her need is greatest.

Moments later she is screaming my name. Her body tenses as I feel her pulse around my fingers. I look up to see her beautifully overwhelmed with sensation, riding out her ecstasy before me, and it is fucking spectacular.

She's breathing so hard and pulls me up to her in a searing kiss. She moves backwards, fully onto the bed and tells me to follow. She takes off my cufflinks and removes my shirt.

She makes quick work of my pants as I slip out of my shoes and each of my feet work to remove the other's sock. I'm left in my boxers, and she tells me to stand up. At this point I would jump out the window if she asked me to, so I comply.

My need is undeniable, I'm twitching in anticipation. She lowers my boxers. As I move out of them, she takes me into her hand and I watch her with hooded eyes.

She licks me from stem to stern, and my head falls backwards of its own volition. So good. But, no. This is not what I want.

She does it again, and I know if she takes me into her mouth I will not be able to stop her from continuing. I have never had so little control over my actions before; she has it all.

"Bella, no. I don't want that, I want you. Lie back for me." I open the drawer in the bedside table and get a condom. Kneeling on the bed in front of her, I roll it over myself, needing no encouraging pumps of my hand before sliding it on. I couldn't be any more ready. She still has her heels and thigh highs on, and I swear that the sight alone is going to kill me. I have never wanted anything more.

"I need to be inside you, Bella. I need to feel you. Christ, I want you so much."

I guide myself toward her, my mouth on her neck, and I can hear her moaning and encouraging me.

At her entrance, I push forward slightly and am met by the upward movement of her hips bringing me in a little deeper.

Oh dear God. She's so tight.

I move forward slowly as I ask her if she's okay. Her eyes are squeezed shut and she's nodding her head, yes. "Please, Bella, tell me if you're okay."

"Yes, Edward. Please, make love to me."

Slowly, I move deeper until I am fully immersed within her body, and I have NEVER, EVER felt like this before.

There are no words to describe this intensity.

This is sheer perfection. I want to move, but I don't think I'm going to last long.

She's too much. Nothing could have prepared me for this.

"Bella, you feel so incredible. I want to move, but Jesus, please go easy. I won't last. Oh, it's so good," I whimper.

I concentrate as if my life depends on it. All it would take is the slightest nudge to be pushed over the edge. I want it so badly, but somehow I move back from the brink. Finally, I begin to move with a purpose.

There is no other pleasure in the world that can compare to this.

"Bella, oh God. I swear to you, never before has it ever been this good."

"I know," she says in a moan.

I move in her slowly, almost removing myself completely before I immerse all that I am into her warmth. I'm on the verge of unmatched ecstasy. Every touch, every stroke is further heightening the experience. I don't know how high I can climb before I lose control.

She rolls us over so she is now on top of me. I can momentarily regain some composure as I am looking at an angel over me. Surely I'm in heaven.

Her hips grind on me as I am buried deep within her. I'm holding her breasts, and before long she is losing herself again. Her moans are unrestricted as her body begins to take what it needs from mine. At first, I feel her start to shudder, and it is causing me to go out of my mind with lust. Moments later, she is squeezing all around me as she cries out my name. I roll her over once more as she is still shaking and drive myself into her over and over until the edges of my vision turns black and all I hear is my own voice screaming out for her. The tension within me lets loose all at once with blinding force as I empty all that I am inside her.

My mind is still not able to absorb the magnitude of sensations my body is experiencing.

My body weight is somehow miraculously held up over her by my elbows placed on either side of her.

It's not immediate, but a few minutes later after some smiles, gentle kisses and caresses, as I am coming down off of the rush of endorphins, and it hits me all at once.

OH, FUCK!

It is as if I lost any control of my free will once Bella's lips touched mine. Now I have irreparably damaged something so dear to me. My friendship with Bella is now destroyed. It's in ruins in the tip of a condom.

Lust was in control of my body; my mind had no say in the matter.

I have always prided myself on my ability to say no when necessary, but tonight with Bella, any restraint I had was completely erased.

I look into her eyes frantically. "Oh God. What have I done?"

Emotions are running wild through my mind. My consciousness and my body have reconnected with a vengeance as guilt and remorse flood over me.

Tears are filling my eyes as I realize the significance of what just happened.

How can we move past this? There's no way. How can I ever just forget this happened? It would be impossible.

I've thrown away everything with Bella because I couldn't control myself.

"Bella, no. Oh God, no. Please tell me this didn't happen, that this is just a bad dream. BELLA! I can't lose you! I'm so sorry, please forgive me. Please forget this ever happened. No, no, NO! Bella I need you in my life. I'll do anything, please. I'm so sorry, please…God forgive me."

I am sobbing naked in her arms, still inside her.

My erection is losing steam rapidly, and I have to address that now. It's the only thing that is causing me to refrain from completely losing control and what's left of my dignity.

We fucked. It was quick and dirty and not what Bella deserves from anyone. She deserves to be adored, not fucked, and certainly not fucked by me. How the hell did this happen?

I move out of her and secure the condom, knotting it and discarding it haphazardly on the floor.

She grabs my face with a look of calm on hers.

I'm this sniveling mess of a man, and again, she is here, helping me. Just to look upon her beauty is calming me.

She heals me with each touch as if her soul is connecting to mine, soothing it, making it whole once again while gently caressing my face and running her fingers through my hair.

"Edward, stop. Please listen to me. This wasn't a mistake. Can't you see that? Please believe me, it wasn't a spur of the moment decision fueled by frustration. It was all I've been able to think about for a while now.

"Don't you know what you do to me? God, Edward, that was the most incredible thing I have ever experienced. Please, it would be profane to say that was just a slip in judgment."

"How could you say that it's not a mistake? I fucked you, for God's sake. I lost control and didn't even make love to you. No, I fucked you instead."

"I don't care what you want to call it, it was amazing for me. Yes, it was a little rushed, but we've been dancing around this land mine for so long now, and it finally exploded. I wouldn't expect it to be any different."

"I'm sorry, Bella. You didn't deserve this from me, you deserve so much more.

"Shit! I'll never be able to look at you the same way without wanting this and more, over and over again. How can I pretend to be your friend after tonight? I had so little control around you before. I don't think it will be any easier after what we shared tonight. I'll fail miserably, I know I will. I'm so sorry."

I start to cry again, and I don't care how un-masculine it is. My life has been turned upside down once more. Now I have to figure out how to stay away from her.

My mind is frantically attempting to problem solve this dilemma while I drown in tears.

I have to move. That's it. It will be difficult with Kate, but maybe I can sell my house and keep renting out Tanya's, and I can move a few towns over. Wait, no that won't work. She is like a part of my family now. Alice thinks of her as the twin she wished she had, wanting to dump me along the way. Moving a few miles away won't solve anything.

I just have to disconnect from her and my sister.

Bella can't come over anymore, and no more Sunday dinners with Mom and Dad. Alice will just have to respect my boundaries.

I can't stay acquainted with her. It will be too awkward and painful to realize what a failure I am. I can't continuously be reminded of all that we've lost.

"You're spooling up and out of control here, Edward. Come back down to me and listen for just a minute, okay? Calm down and stop crying, my beautiful, sensitive man."

Somehow I manage to regain control and find my misplaced man card.

"Good. Good, that's it." I rest my head on her chest as she hugs me and runs her hands through my hair. I wipe the tears from my face, and she speaks again, "Didn't you hear me before? I told you I wanted this. I wanted this so badly. I'm sorry that it happened after an argument, but after you told me that you didn't want to make me cry anymore, I thought to myself, this is how you would do that. I'm sorry that our first time together is essentially make-up sex, but at the same time, I'm not sorry at all.

"Don't you feel the electricity that moves through us when we're together? Your touch would leave me breathless, so I avoided it for so long, thinking everything was in my imagination. But it is not, Edward. It's more real than anything I've ever felt before. I want to feel it over and over again. I want to touch you as your friend and as your lover. I want it all with you."

Again, I wipe my face and under my nose and sit up to look her in the eyes. "But, I don't understand. You want a relationship? With me? I know how I feel, and that would make me incredibly happy, but why could you want me? You're gay."

"No. You said I'm gay. I never said it. Yes, I was in a sexual relationship with a woman when you met me, but I never labeled myself as a lesbian, you did."

"What are you talking about? You never corrected me either, Bella." A twinge of anger burns within me.

"True, but it never really came up when it was appropriate for me to do so. It wasn't something that I wanted to just spring on you and it's not like we ever sat down and talked about it. You never once asked me about my past. Even while Jessica and I were dating, any time her name came up you cringed or changed the subject. But once I realized I wanted more from our relationship, and that I had to tell you how I felt, I was always looking for the perfect opportunity, but it never came. Each time I had a chance that I didn't take, I always wound up regretting it. I wasn't going to let it happen again."

"Bella, we used to sit in the park or in a bar and look at girls together. I encouraged your opinion. I asked you for pointers on oral sex, for God's sake."

"Edward, think about it. You could ask Alice or Rosalie to judge women from a park bench. Everyone has an opinion and they are usually more than happy to share it. And don't you think every woman wants to be able to pre-infuse men with knowledge on how to please them without actually having to do it during the act? I was speaking to you as a woman Edward, not as a gay woman. You just assumed what you wanted to assume."

I think back and realize that I always just assumed Bella wasn't ever interested in guys, ever. I never wanted to talk about her past girlfriends because I wasn't entirely at ease talking about a situation where I felt so inferior. When she asked me about Tanya and Victoria, I answered her questions, but honestly, I didn't want to know about her past, it made me uncomfortable. I suppose naiveté was to blame at first, followed closely by my own wounded ego, second.

Bella continued, "I dated boys all throughout high school, and as an adult I've been in relationships with men before. Back then, if you asked me, I would tell you I was straight. But, more recently, I realized that if I bonded with a person regardless of gender, then so be it. I decided to no longer pigeon-hole myself into a category. I suppose I'm just open-minded. Nor am I very experienced with either sex, so don't think that's the case, because it isn't."

My mind is spinning off into so many directions at once. "So this whole time we have been friends after you broke up with Jessica, we could have been more than friends? You were like…I don't know…leading me on as my friend? I don't know how I feel about this, Bella."

She shifts in the bed and looks at me with determination. Honestly, I'm a bit intimidated by what I see in her expression. There is a fierceness I wasn't expecting.

"You're putting words in my mouth again. I never said that we could have been more then, and the answer would be no. At the time, I would not have been okay about a relationship with you other than as a friend. Yes, I was attracted to you, but I never felt that you could feel the same way. I would never jeopardize our friendship just because I thought you were cute.

"If I am being totally honest with you, Edward, I don't completely approve of your at laissez-faire attitude toward meaningless sex, and I never wanted to be categorized with those other women. Nor was it my place to judge you, so I stayed silent. I know you said you never lead them on to think it could be anything more, and they are okay with that. It's just, I feel that when you are intimate with someone, you should feel some kind of connection to them. They shouldn't only be considered a means to an end."

I feel a little twinge of embarrassment after her assessment of me. "You could have told me you disapproved. I wouldn't think you were judging me."

"Would it have changed anything? I don't think you would want to give up casual sex just so you could be my friend, and I certainly didn't want you to get serious with a woman. The only thing admitting my disapproval would have caused is that you would go to greater lengths to hide it from me, and that would only lead to resentment on both ends.

"Besides, I didn't want to impose my version of morals onto you. So, of course, you continued on with that behavior. Before long, instead of just slight frustration at your indiscretions, I began feeling jealous of those women. I know it is crazy, but they knew you in a way I felt I never would, and it only got worse over time."

She strokes the back of my head with her fingernails while our legs remain entwined.

"Bella, I didn't have sex with every girl I took out, you know. It's true I had a lot of dates, but not every one of them were okay with what I wanted and they let usually let me know right away."

She looks at me curiously. "Really? I don't know why I'm asking, but how often did you get turned down?"

"More often than I wasn't, I can tell you that."

"Still, I could never disconnect myself from sex like that, even when I should have with James and Mike."

"Were those the men you were once in a relationship with?"

"Yeah, I had some boyfriends in high school but I never really let those get too far.

"I had two real relationships with men and both ended miserably. Actually it was pretty miserable completely throughout. That's probably why I opened my mind in the first place and had my first experience with a woman while I was in college. It wasn't as scary as I thought, so I never ruled it out in the future. In fact, I have always thought that I was more comfortable around women than men. Until I met you."

"But I really don't want to ruin what has turned into a pretty incredible night with talking about my past."

"Okay, another time then. I guess I should know these things and not just assume or hide my head in the sand, so eventually…as much as I don't want to—I think we should revisit this."

She nods her head as she whispers, "I promise, I'll tell you everything."

I smile at her assurance. "Okay, good." I proceed to blow out a breath and feel a bit awkward with my next question. "Soooo, you want to pursue this?" When I say the word "this", I begin flapping my hands from me to her repeatedly. "With me?"

I look like a moron.

"Yes, I do," she says as confidently as I have ever heard her say anything.

"Wow, uhm...wow. I don't have to move, or disown my sister or anything? And you want to be with me? Like with-me, with-me? Like as my girlfriend, with-me? Even though I'm a guy, with-me?"

Now I'm babbling like a moron and she looks slightly bewildered.

"Uhm, I think so. The question was a little confusing, but if you tried it again and asked if I wanted to be your girlfriend, I'll bet I would say yes."

"Really? Wow! Okay, so, Bella…would you be my girlfriend?"

"Yes, Edward. I will."

"Oh, fuck yeah, that is FUCKING AWESOME!"

I wiggle my butt back and forth while I forcefully raise my fist into the air as if my team had just scored a touchdown. In a way, I suppose it did…maybe even won the fucking Super Bowl. I think better of continuing my display and sheepishly stow my fist before Bella can change her mind.

"Uhm…Oops. Sorry, didn't mean to curse and act like a fool. I got a little carried away."

Yeah, that's me…definitely a moron.

She's giggling then softly kisses me on the lips, down to my jaw and over to my ear. I'm reminded of her sensuality, the passion that I now know is veiled thinly below the surface, and I want to see her shatter in my arms again.

I feel my body awaken once more with desire. It's been less than fifteen minutes, but a certain part of me doesn't seem to notice the time or that I'm over thirty. I want to start over and discover Bella's body, every inch. What makes her heart race and what makes her moan. No time to be a moron now. Now I want to show her how good I can make her feel.

I take my time, exploring her with my hands and my mouth as she hums in appreciation.

I find my second favorite spot to taste on Bella's body. It is down the side of her neck and just above her collar bone, that small area that dips inward.

When she lazily rolls over onto her stomach, I can see that her beauty knows no limitations. Her curves are perfection, her skin so soft and smooth.

I find that the small of her back has two small dimples that are begging for my tongue after I kiss down her spine.

"Close your eyes, Bella, and just feel me everywhere. This may take a while. I don't want to miss anything. I want to learn your body. Slowly. Very. Very. Intimately."

I hear the soft noises she is making and notice how goose bumps show up on her skin after my tongue passes over, followed by lightly blowing over her damp flesh. She is moving her hips slightly.

A few minutes later her ass is in the air, and she is on her hands and knees before me. She looks at me over her shoulder with lust in her eyes. "Touch me, please," she begs as she moves a hand to her center, and I swear on everything holy, I have never seen anything hotter.

While sitting back on my knees, I run my hands over her perfect, round ass while gently pushing her shoulders back down to the bed so she is only raised up on her knees. So fucking sexy.

One of my hands go across to her lower back while the other one briefly slides over her wetness before dipping in. She cries out with each stroke.

I want her to know exactly how she feels, what every touch does to her. So I watch her attentively, listen to all the sounds she makes and feel her breathing deepen or quicken as she responds to me. Most important, I remember, cataloging everything in my mind for next time. And there will be many, many next times.

She moves away from my touch, and I am confused momentarily. Then I realize what she is doing. She goes into my side table drawer for a condom and rolls it over my length as I watch her. She's so bold, yet shy. When she looks at my expression that must be completely overwhelmed with lust, she blushes. I don't want her to be caught between confidence and inhibition, between propriety and wantonness; I know I want to share everything with this woman. I want to show her that, with me, she can let herself go and tell me and show me exactly what she needs.

She turns around on all fours once again and I know what she wants. But not yet.

I pull her body upright, facing away from me as I hold her back tightly against my chest. I kiss her neck, kneeling together while I move one hand to her breast and the other down her toned middle.

I whisper in her ear, "I love that you're showing me what you want. Don't ever be shy with me. I want you to take charge of your own desires."

She moans while leaning back into my erection. "You make me feel bold, Edward."

I slowly make my way lower to rub light circles over her center with one hand and tease her nipple with the other. I notice that she wants it a bit more intense as she leans into my hand and moans louder as I pinch her nipple. It seems that she likes when I touch her like this, each time responding a little more passionately. I want to learn to play her like an instrument, perfecting the music her body sings for me.

I begin speaking softly in her ear again as I move my hips forward, "Bella, you're making me crazy. Do you feel how much I want you? Do you have any idea what you're doing to me? I want to worship you, make you feel as good as you make me feel. I want to cum so hard and deep inside you that when I do, I'll be able to reach your soul. I want it all with you. I want you to show me everything."

"Please, Edward. I need you inside me now. I want you, hard and fast."

She moves her hands down to the bed as I use one hand to line myself up with her; the other is on her hip, pulling her back slightly to meet me. I was hoping this go round was going to be slow and gentle, but this will be anything but. This will be feral, rough and dirty. The sound of our bodies crashing into each other will barely be heard over the voiced resonance of our lust.

She feels even better the second time as I bend forward and slide myself into her with one fluid movement, her moans spur me on. I have no idea how I don't let go on contact, she feels that amazing. It seems that somehow, tonight, I have been blessed with the super-human ability to hold back while inside her.

After a few slower strokes, I move with more speed and strength. I watch as I move myself into her each time, and I believe this is the most erotic thing I have ever seen. This woman is my Bella. Dear God, I was blessed with her only as a friend, but now she is my lover, and holy hell, already I know she's going to be the most spectacular one I've ever had; I'll never be the same again. I have to wonder if this is reality, or the greatest dream I've ever had.

Minutes later she tells me not to stop, that she is going to come. She moves one hand over her clit while touching my cock as I relentlessly drive myself into her. I hold her hips tightly as I feel her pulsing around me, and that is all it takes to push me over that edge that I've been holding onto so tightly, the one that was bound to give way at any moment.

Expletives while using the lord's name in vain begin streaming from my mouth as I lose myself completely inside her. It seems to go on forever before I feel the euphoria of holding Bella tightly as we come down from our high together.

I'm overwhelmed with emotions, and I don't ever want to let this woman go. I need her to be mine completely, now and forever.

I pull out of her and we lie together. When she turns to face me, the smile on her face warms me from the inside out. I kiss her reverently. She then endures dozens of kisses of my adoration. When I'm confident that I've covered every millimeter of her face, paying special attention to her lips, I pull away and smile back. I'm lost in a feeling almost as intense as it is to be inside her.

She begins to speak, her hands over my chest—one is settled on my heart that seems to be beating only for her now. "I guess we have a lot to talk about."

"Yeah, we do, but I still just want to hold you. How about we stay right like this and talk. I don't want anything to disturb the way you feel against me right now." I wish this feeling would never end.

"Okay, but it's pretty early. Are we bad people for leaving the wedding early?"

"Nah, I don't think so. We were there for all the important parts. Unfortunately by now, I bet they've noticed that we're missing, but since there's a lot going on so I don't think anyone will be coming to look for us yet."

"Mmmhmm, you used the word us. I like the way that word sounds."

"Me too, baby," I say with a lopsided grin, that eventually straightens out to a full on beaming smile.

"What do you think we should tell them?"

"Well, I think we should tell them that we were discussing personal matters, but if you're asking me if we should keep this a secret, I don't. I mean, obviously, I'm not going to go and tell everyone that we just had sex, but I don't think we should hide us either. Do you agree?"

"I do. I'm just afraid of what some people will think." Her brow furrows with concern.

I try to ease her worry. "What people? My family loves you. I think they'll be thrilled that we decided to take our relationship to the next level. If anything, they'll wonder why it didn't happen sooner. I don't know how you want to handle that with my mom and dad, but we could just say we weren't ready for it until now. They don't have to know anything else. I think my sister will be ecstatic, Rose and Emmett will be more than fine with it. I think Angela will keep an open mind. Besides, she's too busy with getting her new life underway. Are you worried that your dad won't approve of me?"

"No, nothing like that. I know your family would welcome this, and my dad will give anyone I bring home a hard time. It's just that if Jessica gets word, she could make my life miserable."

"Jessica, really? I haven't heard her name in a while. Why would you care about what she thinks? And how would she make your life miserable?"

"She's vindictive and she has connections. You know she's my boss's cousin. But I never really told you, she's probably one of the reasons I got my job in the first place."

"Huh...Alright then. But you've proved yourself over and over and she moved away a couple months ago, right?"

"Yeah. She moved, but she still works at the same school though. I guess I'm just over reacting. It's just that I tried so hard to convince her back then that you were just a friend. She'll probably think I was lying all along. As silly as it sounds, I just don't want anyone, even a liar like Jessica, to think I'm cut from the same cloth."

"I can see your point, but we were just friends then, and sometimes things change. I don't see that we have anything to be ashamed about, do you?"

"Definitely not." She hums and snuggles into my chest.

"So, we have a choice. It's only a little before eight and the reception is coming to a close. We could head back down there and make our presence known for the after party, or we could stay here and run a bath and relax. It's up to you."

"Well, I kind of feel bad, but I really don't want to leave. A bath sounds perfect. "

"Good! I agree. I want you to stay with me tonight, just like this."

"It's settled then. I'll just have to tell everyone that you wouldn't let me leave so you could have your wicked way with me."

"You haven't seen wicked yet, little girl," I say with a growl. I pretend to attack her neck with kisses as she squeals playfully.

Her eyes are shining and she is smiling so brightly. I don't want to do anything to ruin this moment, but I have to say, "You know, when we don't show up for the after party, they'll come looking for us, especially my sister."

Bella smiles mischievously. "You know, I'm certain that they'll leave us be. No one will be up here knocking on any doors."

"How can you be so sure?"

She goes on to explain to me that my sister, Rose, and even Angela, all know how she feels about me. I'm a bit taken aback by this at first, but we talk about everything while lying in each other's arms and work out these concerns together.

We get around to our bath a short time later. After soaking for a while and talking more about us as a couple, we dry off and finally have the chance to make love, low and slow. Every subtlety I feel to my soul. Every inch, the slightest touch that would normally be the equivalent in motion that a whisper would be to speech, comes across loud and clear. I'm acutely aware of her every movement from a fingertip brushing against my cheek, to the sounds of her passion and the sensations inside her body just before she tightens around me as she screams my name out loud. It is sublime.

There was never lack of intensity between us. I loved her when she was only my friend, now she is my everything. I want to show her how much I feel for her through my actions every time we make love and every minute in between. I want for her to see inside my heart that a new love for her is awakening with such passion that I've never imagined possible. There is an intensity that, if it were with anyone other than Bella, would terrify me.

Through all that we have experienced together, and all that she has done for me, I trust Bella with my heart completely. Only with her, would I be capable of a love this intense and unrestricted.

Immediately after we make love, emotions overcome Bella. While smiles up at me, tears begin to flow out of the corners of her eyes. Anxiety threatens the peace I've found in her arms, before I panic, she flattens her hand on my chest, over my heart, it calms me. She easily assures me that what she experienced was so overwhelming that crying is just a result of all that she feels.

I kiss her tears away and whisper the truest statement I have ever spoken, "I love you, Bella."

She takes my face between her hands. One thumb strokes my cheek, while looking me in the eyes and says, "I love you too, so much. I always have." Her tears reappear and I let them fall as we kiss each other passionately.

Bella falls asleep naked in my arms, with me feeling happiness that I didn't even know existed.

**A/N: I know some of you think E (or B) is hopeless, but everyone deserves a love that will last for all eternity. If everyone knew how that feels, I think the world would be a much better place**.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: I was going to wait until tomorrow to post this, but since I am so happy that someone nominated me for Fav Newbie Author and Fav Undiscovered Gem Fic on the Twi Fic Fandom Awards that just couldn't wait to say THANK YOU! I have thoroughly enjoyed this whole process, even though it is so much more work than I ever imagined, I'm just sorry I waited so long because I was too afraid to give it a try. But enough about me...go vote for your favorites(but read this chap first). **

**So I have good news and bad news. Good-there is 11K words in this chapter, if you like that sort of thing. Bad-I decided to cut out the original chapter 17 completely because I hated it. Here is a brief synopsis. It was mostly filler and fluff anyway from B's POV. I remind you that they talked about their issues, in case your were concerned. Sure, it had morning lemons, but blah, blah, blah…they do it again in various positions and finish up with some oral in the shower and of course it's mind blowing(no pun intended). I also tried to throw in some cutsie banter to develop their relationship. Oh,and she finally told off Lauren the next day at brunch. But I feel like you didn't need a whole chapter for that, it's kind of insulting. So just read this instead. Rant over.**

**Thanks to kitchmill, my beta who I know I continuously frustrate by fiddling with the things she's already fixed. She has an eagle eye for this stuff, I assure you, it's me that screws it up.**

Chapter 17

Edward

It's been less than a week, four days actually, but Bella and I seem to have settled into our new found relationship with ease. It doesn't feel unusual to do everything we used to do before, plus have a lot of sex in between.

We basically haven't left each other's side since we first kissed at the wedding. It's a date as important to me as it is to Ben and Angela. They started their new life that day and in so many ways, so did I. We made love again that next morning and faced my suspicious sister and cousin at the brunch Angela and Ben had arranged.

Sunday dinner that evening at Mom and Dad's was when we officially announce to my family we are a couple. Everyone basically shared the same sentiment—it's about time.

Tomorrow I'll have to work a double. I guess between my work commitment and the nights Kate stays with me, Bella will have some time to herself. I don't think it is a good idea to let Kate know right now that Bella and I share a bed. She just found out we are dating. I don't think there is a proper way to explain where Bella and I are in our relationship yet. She's a bit young, but I know she'll remember this as a teenager. Above all else, I think I should set a proper example.

Trying to behave in front of my family, and especially my daughter, is challenging. I have never felt so much desire toward anyone like I do with Bella. Even her innocent touches are tempting. The draw I feel is unstoppable. I can't get her off my mind when we're apart, and I can't seem to stay away from her when we're together. It makes perfect sense that being Bella's lover would altogether shift something inside me and change me forever. The intensity of emotions she has brought forth is all new for me. It is so much more than sex, though. I feel so much calmer when I'm close to her. I need to touch her, even if it is just to hold her hand. She heals me, she always has. The nights we have spent together so far have been nightmare free. But I know if one did sneak through, Bella would be there for me, and I would find peace again within her arms.

The love I feel for her is unfathomable.

She's always there to save me over and over again. I can never be good enough for her, but I will try to get there with every breath I have left.

Bella's birthday is today, and this weekend she and I are going to her father's house. She will introduce me to her dad as her boyfriend.

I look forward to meeting Charlie, and I know Bella is looking forward to being with him again. She tells me she hasn't seen him in a few weeks.

It may be a little on the quick side, but since Bella and I know each other so well, I personally think it's long overdue. Chief Swan already knows me from casual conversations with Bella as a friend and a former patient of hers, so we just have to dance around any potential questions he may have as to why this didn't happen sooner. Bella's dad really doesn't know too much about her personal life. For the most part, that's the way she likes it.

I'm pretty nervous about the whole thing, because I want him to like me. That, and the fact that he's armed.

I know how I will feel toward any boy that will be introduced to me as the one that has, or will potentially, put his filthy hands on my daughter when she starts dating, so I can't say I blame him. Good thing Charlie can't read minds, because if he knew some of the things I've done to his daughter and what I still haven't checked off on my list of things I want to do to her, he would shoot me on the spot.

As far as any birthday plans for her tonight, she made me promise not to have a big deal waiting for her when she gets home from work.

She's working on her birthday, and I'm not really thrilled about it, but she just doesn't seem to like being the center of attention. She specifically asked to work today to make sure no one makes a fuss over it, especially my sister. So I agreed—no party, just me and her. I know she doesn't mind being the center of my attention, and I plan to attend to her properly.

Alice took her out to lunch yesterday and gave her a gift certificate from some fancy lingerie store. With Alice's help, she picked out some fancy under-things that she modeled for me briefly last night. Apparently, there is more than one set. It's just that we never got around to her showing me both, because I couldn't control myself moments after seeing her in the first one. Maybe if she's not too tired after work, she can she can finish modeling for me. It's like a present to me, too. My sister is the best…sometimes.

I'm cooking her favorite dinner, vegetable lasagna—her recipe—and I baked a double chocolate cake that I plan on decorating myself. I can cook, but I don't really bake, so I hope I don't botch it up too badly.

I also have some of her favorite flowers waiting for her, and a present which I really think she will like.

She has had her eye on this expensive stethoscope, a Littman Master Cardiologist. She told me she always wanted one, but at the time she couldn't justify the expense because she already had one that got her through her day without any problems. I got it lettered on the tubing that crosses up top with Isabella Swan RN, CCRN on one side, and "Sanat Amor," which loosely translated in Latin means love heals, or love makes whole.

It's what she has done for me in so many ways.

This gift may not mean so much to all those higher maintenance types who would be outraged if they received a gift they could use for work. They would think it was about as great as getting a new stapler if they were a secretary, or a new calculator if they were an accountant, but I know that Bella is different. I think she will appreciate this because her job means a lot to her.

Shortly after seven thirty that evening, Bella walks into her apartment. I'm there, putting the finishing touches on dinner. She looks slightly tired, but otherwise radiant. She smiles when she sees me come out of the kitchen. It's the first time that I've been able to tell her happy birthday, other than through sending her texts while she was at work. I know most of the time she is too busy for casual conversation, so texting is the next best thing.

"Happy birthday, beautiful," I manage to say before she grabs me for a tight hug and a passionate kiss that I must say, will threaten to throw dinner off track if she's not careful.

"Thank you, Edward. Something smells really good. Oh, my favorite flowers! This is so sweet. I had a frustrating day and I really needed this. Thank you."

"I would have done so much more if you would've let me," I say with a little disappoint noticeable in my voice. I wanted to take her and everyone else for a night out. Maybe to a pricey restaurant for a nice dinner, and a club for some live music. Maybe even some dancing.

I saw a nice pair of diamond teardrop earrings that looked really pretty, but she insisted, no expensive gifts. Anyway, I have to be sure I don't frighten her away with my overzealousness in this relationship. Bella wanted to keep her birthday low key. She asked me for a quiet night at home alone. I couldn't refuse my girl anything, even if it meant not giving her what I thought she, at the minimum, deserved from me.

Bella takes my hand and sits me down on the couch. "Edward, you don't realize how wonderful this is for me. Just to see you here cooking me dinner is more than enough. It's perfect.

"No one has ever made me dinner before you, did you know that? You were my first, while we were just friends even, and you didn't expect anything in return. I never told you how much it meant to me each time. Since no one ever did it for me before, I felt unworthy, that I didn't deserve it. I don't know why I never told you this before, but I want you to know everything now.

"From now on, I promise, there will be no secrets and no more holding back what should be said."

"Okay, baby. I want you to know you deserve only the best, and that's so much more than I can do. I'd give you the universe if I could. Nothing is too good for you. Not then, and certainly not now. But tonight we're doing a homemade birthday, like you wanted."

I hold both her hands in mine and lean over to kiss her forehead. I close my eyes for just a moment to indulge in the feeling of adoration I have for this woman. I say a silent prayer that I will always be worthy enough to keep her.

"So, this evening's menu includes vegetable lasagna and a chocolate birthday cake. It's a far cry from five-star restaurant-fancy, so hopefully it will be okay. But just so you know, I love to cook dinner for you. So in the spirit of not holding back what I want to say—why don't you change out of your scrubs and into some PJs so you are more comfortable. Hell, you could have dinner naked, if the mood strikes you…just sayin'."

"Anything you make for me will be wonderful, I just know it. I'm going to get comfortable, but I think I'll keep some clothes on, at least for the time being."

She stands and kisses me again before she walks away swaying her perfect ass. Tease.

Five minutes later, as I just finish setting the table, she comes out of the bedroom in a short silk robe, and my dick immediately stands up to take notice.

"Edward, this looks great and I'm so hungry. Come, sit down, let's eat."

Damn. Down boy, let the girl eat, for cryin' out loud.

My appetite for food has bottomed out, but I can't say the same for my appetite for Bella. I'm starving here.

We sit down to eat, and within minutes, she's almost finished. Damn, she was hungry.

"Please have more, Edward. It's sooo good. Really, I know you used my recipe, but it's different somehow. Better, even. What did you change?"

Oh, this is gonna be good.

"Uhm, well, instead of the dried stuff, I used fresh basil and oregano, just more of it. I also added lots of spinach, too."

Her eyes widen in shock and her mouth opens slightly. "I knew it! I knew you would eventually sneak it through and get me to eat spinach! You're proud of yourself, aren't you?" she says, shocked, as if I betrayed her.

"Yep. Not bad, right?" My lust addled mind temporarily switches gears, and I smile smugly. I must say, she is rather comical in her disdain for the vegetable. I told her that she would eventually give in under the pressure, or I would sneak it in. Either way, she was going to eat it. She was always on the lookout, so I just had to bide my time. But I never thought it would be so easy.

"I mean, come on, Bella, vegetable lasagna? How could I not put it in there? You didn't even do your typical sweep to clear anything I cook you from containing even a little spinach. I snuck it in and you didn't even look…on your birthday, no less. Score: Edward - 1, Bella - 0. Boo-yah, baby!

"I wish I had someone to chest bump," I added with a mock sigh.

"Yes, well, you may have won that round, but it's just a shame that now our night is over before it even began. After all, if I can't trust you with dinner, how can I trust you with other things I would enjoy having tonight?" She has a calculating sound to her voice which I'm not sure if I should worry about.

"Pity. I guess I wore this for no reason." She stands and slowly unties her robe. She lets is slowly fall to the ground into a puddle of silk. The other one of my wonderful sister's presents adorns every curve of Bella's body, and she looks like she stepped out of a girly magazine that I would have whacked off to when I was younger.

Who am I kidding? I'd still whack off to them if my mom didn't throw them out on me fifteen years ago.

Note to self— get Alice a Porsche or something for Christmas. God love her and her impeccable taste in bedroom fashion.

I walk up to her. I need to feel her, but she wags her finger at me and says, "Unh, unh uhh. You've been a naughty boy, and I'm only showing you what you could have had if you were a nice boy. Naughty boys finish last, you know."

I want to tell her that I have every intention of finishing last—right after she finishes no less than three times—on my hand, in my mouth and around my cock. She turns around and bends over seductively, and rubbing her fine ass against me. That part of her body is barely clad in the thong part of her outfit. She then picks up her robe and puts it back on.

"Bella, stop. Don't put that on. I want to look at you," I say, carefully taking a step in her direction so I don't scare her away.

"Then I want to feel you. I want to taste you, and then I want to drive myself into you until I make you scream. God, baby, you're so hot."

I put spread my hands over her hips, she is so tiny, they envelop so much of her body.

My hands move upward to her breasts, but she stops me before I can start worshiping her.

"Oh, I'm sorry Edward. Like I said, if you were a good boy and hadn't played that naughty trick with dinner, maybe I could trust that you would take care of me like you say you will. Unfortunately, I can't trust my pleasure tonight with someone who would trick me. It looks like I'm going to have to take care of myself…myself."

With that she walks into her bedroom, leaving the door open.

Oh please tell me that means what I think it means.

I stand just inside the doorway, my curiosity and the feeling that I'm an outsider in this voyeuristic situation, causes my desire to intensify. I watch as Bella lies back onto her bed after removing a small satchel from her bedside table. Inside I can see a couple of tubes of what I assume are lotions. YES, oh thank you, YES! She takes out a vibrator.

There are other things in her bag of tricks, but everything else is put away back into the drawer except for a pink colored tube thingy with an ungodly appendage that looks like a rabbit jutting out from the base. Ohhhhhhhh, I get it, this is a rabbit. I have heard about them, but I never saw one before.

You think with all the porn I have watched over the internet I would have come across this thingy by now, but this is my first rabbit. I've watched the ladies with double sided ones, glass ones, extra giant horse sized ones and even a sparkly one that was made after some sparkly douche vampire. This is my first rabbit up close and personal with Bella. Can life get any better? I think not.

Bella has her robe open lying back with her knees up as she starts to move her hands over her body. She looks over at me mischievously with a sexy grin. She knows exactly what she's doing to me, and it is sweet torture. I watch as she lowers the bra part of her lingerie slightly. It barely covered her to begin with, so now I can see her breasts as she rubs and pinches her fingers over her nipples.

She moves one hand lower to the top of her panties and dips inside the low cut thong. Slowly, she circles her fingers at the top of her opening while moaning slightly. Through the sheer fabric I can see her move lower and slide her fingers up and down before plunging one inside. She is moaning louder as she slides her fingers into her body over and over.

I adjust myself in my pants and move my palm roughly up my length. I get to the sensitive tip and suck in a breath between my clenched teeth. The anticipation of where this night is going makes my whole body tingle.

She moves her other hand down to move her panties to the side for the moment as she dips two finger in again.

Oh God, this is so effing great.

After a moment, she gracefully slips them off while picking up the vibrator. I can see how wet she is already, and what I wouldn't do just to get close enough to breathe in her arousal, or dare I say, touch her. I move closer to stand by her bed, mesmerized by her actions, her boldness, and desire. Her eyes are heavy with lust, but she is completely aware of my proximity and how my body is humming with need.

She moves the vibrator all over the outside of her center and her moans pick up in intensity. I want to do this for her, but today I'll watch and learn what she likes. She slowly dips just the tip in, and it is all I can do not to touch her. Instead, I open my pants and free my straining cock. I use some of her lube and begin to move my hand over myself while watching her.

She is watching me as well, and it seems to add fuel to the fire burning within her as she takes the entire phallus inside her. She's beautiful and sexy and all mine.

I hear a low buzz and see Bella's head loll back briefly.

Shit, I wish I had that function on me. I'll have to get one of those vibrating cock rings. Yeah that's it.

I move closer to the bed looming over her, driving my fist over my cock rapidly. After a few minutes, she screams out in pleasure as I watch her ride out everything she's feeling.

"Fuck, baby. I'm so close," I grit out through my teeth.

She pulls me closer by my hip. "I want you to cum on me."

Oh, yes please.

I decide to change it up a bit at the last second, so I get rid of my pants, but keep my boxers on, just pushed down a bit, and I straddle her chest.

I ask her if this is okay. She nods and smiles. Nothing is shy about that smile. It's an all confident, sexy, Bella smirk and I love it.

I ask her to put the pillows under her back to raise her body up. With a little bit more lotion from her side table, I put my cock between her breasts and push them together so they are squeezing me tightly. Oh damn, this is so good.

I'm watching myself move enthusiastically for less than a minute when I feel everything start to build again from my toes upward. She takes over holding her breasts as I hold onto the headboard, moving faster and harder. I begin to unravel, and she knows exactly when as she surprisingly opens her mouth. It sends me over the top. I scream out her name, as once again, she takes all I have to give.

God, she is so fucking sexy.

I crumple downward, depleted, while I move down to find her neck and ear and begin to kiss her while telling her how incredible she is.

"Woman, you are going to be the death of me."

"And it seems you will meet your maker with a smile on your face. Come on, let's wash up and have some cake," she says lightly as she slips out from under me and bounces away toward the bathroom.

How is she doing that? I don't think I can trust my legs to keep me upright yet.

A few minutes later, I stagger, all clean, into the kitchen to see Bella in her robe getting the plates ready for her birthday cake with a huge smile. She tells me that this is the first time she can ever remember that someone has baked a cake for her.

I hope she's not expecting too much really. I'm no baker, but I'm happy to do it. At the same time, I'm sad that it took twenty-seven years for someone to do so for her.

She explains that from what she can remember, her mom was not a very good cook and they ate take out quite frequently. If a birthday or other celebration came up, the confections came from a bakery. She had little choice when her mom left but to learn how to cook. She did all the cooking, occasional baking and basically took care of Charlie so he wouldn't die a premature death from heart disease, with all the fast food he would otherwise consume. No one has ever cared for her in a similar way until now, and the sentiment is not lost on her.

My cake is light years from perfect. It's the first cake I have ever baked. I'm nervous.

It's a bit lopsided. The icing could have been spread out a little more evenly, and I originally made a spelling error while writing "Happy Birthday Bella" in pink icing. I initially forgot the "h" in birthday so it read 'Birtday' but I managed to salvage it…somewhat. I kinda squeezed in a tiny h, and it's glaringly obvious to me, but hopefully it's not as noticeable to Bella.

In an effort to distract her eye from my typo of sorts, I tried to make little multi-colored icing flowers that came out really well on the paper towels I practiced on, but not so good on the cake itself.

Overall, I think it looks like a second grader baked this cake with little-to-no help from his mom.

It was running late and I didn't have time for a do over.

I should have asked Alice for help.

Hopefully it doesn't disappoint her too much.

I take the cake out of the fridge where I kind of hid it away, and bring it over to the table and place a single candle on it. I am pretty embarrassed about it, but it's all I have. I have to just go with it and hope for the best.

Before I get a chance to light the lone candle, I hear Bella sniffle a bit. I look over, and sure enough, she's crying.

Oh, shit. I know her first cake sucks, but I really didn't think she would cry because of it. Maybe it won't taste as bad as it looks, but what if it does?

Shit.

I frantically move the cake away and tell her not to worry. "Damn, I'm sorry, it sucks, I know. I'll go out really quick to the A&P and get a nice one for you. It'll only take like a half an hour, maybe forty minutes. I'll be back before you know it."

Great, I fucked up her birthday. Maybe I should have started out with a fucking Easy Bake Oven first, before I tried it in a real one.

I didn't realize it would be so significant to her. I should have known, especially since it is the first one anyone ever made for her. Now I screwed everything up. God damn it! I knew I should have trashed it and bought a real one instead.

She's inconsolably crying and shaking her head. I wish she would stop. I'm at a loss for what to do next. I don't know if I should go get a good cake, or stay here until she's finished crying.

I think it would be bad to leave, so I stand her up from the chair and walk her to the couch so she can cry on my shoulder— literally. I want to tell her how sorry I am, and that it was my first and I knew I should have practiced a couple times.

"Next time I promise I'll practice first. I'll a better one for you soon."

She regains her composure and looks at me confused. I kiss her and tell her it'll be okay.

I stand to go back into the kitchen to get rid of the offending cake before I go out to the supermarket. She follows me.

"What are you doing?" she says with shock as I open the lid of the trash can, holding the cake over it. She nearly knocks me over to stop me from tossing it in.

"I'm just going to get rid of this before I get you a good one. I should be back in about a half hour, it's no big deal. Why, do you want to feed it to the birds or something?"

"Edward, stop. Please do NOT throw that away! Are you insane?"

Well, now that she mentioned it, I may be, because I really don't understand what the hell she wants me to do here.

I don't say anything; I just look at her confused, because I think that's my safest option in this situation.

"Please, bring it here. I love it. I love it so much, you have no idea. Please, it is so perfect, please, I swear."

"All right, now I do think I'm insane. You're crying because you like it? It's horrible looking. How could you like it? I thought you were crying because I ruined your birthday and your first homemade cake with this mess."

She is beaming at me and wraps her arms around me so tightly, telling me how much she loves me.

She gets her phone and takes a couple pictures of it for safe keeping. I'm even more embarrassed now. If anyone sees that they will laugh at me and how much I suck at baking.

We sit back down at the table, and the cake that has caused so much confusion for me is placed between us.

She amazes me when she says, "I just wish I didn't have to cut it."

I think she's becoming delirious.

"Bella, honestly, I tried, but I didn't mean for it to come out so messed up. Please cut it, I can barely stand to look at it anymore."

"Edward, this means so much to me. I don't even know how to explain it." She pauses for a moment before starting up again. "Okay…do you remember some of the art work that Kate brought home to you when she first started school?"

"Uhm, uh huh." I'm confused at where she's going with this.

"I'll bet you saved a lot of it, not because it was perfect or a masterpiece but because she made it and gave it to you. Right?"

"Uhm, yeah of course," I say, still confused.

"Well, if she was allowed to only make you one painting ever, wouldn't that be the most precious piece of paper you owned?

"I can't say that I know what the love between a parent and a child is like, Edward, but I know how much I love you, and to me this cake would be like the one and only Katie original painting for you."

Ahhh, I see. She's not really comparing me to a toddler, but my novice baking skills are as precious to her as my daughter's novice art work was for me.

"Okay. I think I get it. So, that means it's good even if it is lopsided. And did you notice I originally misspelled birthday? I left out the H that is why it is mushed in there like it is."

We laugh about the cake from hell, in fact, we're pretty freaking hysterical over it. This is so much better than crying. Why don't girls know that? It's like a weight has been lifted. It's like all the stress of messing up her birthday was let go in that laughter.

Whew!

She even makes me take a picture of her next to it before she cuts it. Her robe was open a bit and I'm quite a fan of the view, so I'm more than okay with it. I even insist on taking one with my phone camera as well. You know…for safekeeping.

Thank goodness the cake tastes better than it looks.

She stares at me deviously and she takes my hand. She moves one of my fingers through some chocolate icing and proceeds to lick it off of me in a manner that should never be seen in public. It could cause a riot.

A certain part of my anatomy is appreciating this very much.

She leads me with my finger still in her mouth to her bedroom, where over the next hour we slowly and sensually make love to each other. It isn't rushed or deviant in any way. Our bodies connect as two people who love each other immeasurably as a truly a beautiful expression of that love. Honestly, I enjoy these times the most. It takes a lot out of me.

Rough sex or kinky sex is a lot easier, less draining and less emotional. But when we truly make love, it blows me away. I don't know how to explain it—it's like our souls connect or something, and I have never, ever felt like that before. I could never tell that to anyone though. My man card has been skating on thin ice ever since I met Bella. It's been under fire numerous times. That confession would revoke it for sure. In fact, they might even take away my penis for good measure.

A while later, after some snuggling and pillow talk, I remember about her present. I get up to bring it to her.

She's still lying naked in her bed, as beautiful as ever.

With the present behind my back, I kneel on the bed next to her and sing her a quick happy birthday song, as I'm naked in front of her.

She giggles at me.

I am not quite sure if she is giggling because I'm naked, or because I'm singing. Either way, it's a huge blow to my ego.

"Are you laughing at my nakedness or my singing? I'm starting to feel very self-conscious here."

"Neither. You just make me so happy that sometimes my smile can't contain it all, so the rest of it sneaks out as a giggle."

God, I love this woman.

With a kiss, I hand over the present and lie back down alongside of her.

"Oh, Edward, you didn't have to."

"Really? I thought they only said that line in the movies. Don't be ridiculous. Yes, I had to. You're my girl and I heart you bad," I say with a goofy grin.

"Sometimes you say the sweetest things."

She reads her card that I made her. I guess, aside from the present, everything tonight is handmade and pretty inferior to what she could have had, like a real dinner cooked by a real chef, a real Hallmark card, and a real cake made by a real baker, but she seems to be okay with my rudimentary version of everything so far.

Outside, I drew a picture of a heart with a band aid across it. Lame, I know. Inside, it says, "You have healed me in every way and given me a second chance at life. Nothing is ever too good for you. You are my life now, and I am forever grateful for all you have done to make me whole again."

Tears fill her eyes. Her tears make me nervous. I try to make sure that she doesn't cry again by kissing her soundly as I wipe her cheeks. "I love you, baby. Happy birthday."

She loves her present. I tell her what the Latin means, and she hugs me and tells me that she loves me too.

We talk about other birthdays she's had. She tells me that out of all them, this was one that she will never forget, because it was so perfect. Well, up until the part when I almost threw out her cake.

We hold each other closely with me breaking apart only to turn off the side light. I kiss her gently on her forehead as she yawns. We fall asleep in each other's arms.

Unfortunately, the peacefulness of the night doesn't last for long.

Just before two, I wake up in a cold sweat, screaming after another nightmare from the fire. The details may differ, but the result is always the same. No matter what I do, I can't save Harry or Jared. In the end, I finally give up, to die myself, but before I do, I always wake up. The panic is overwhelming. I feel like my heart is beating so hard that it will crash right through my chest. Nothing I do gives me enough air. I breathe in as deeply as my chest will expand, but I need more. I feel like I'm suffocating, like I'm dying. I have to sit upright.

Bella grabs me roughly and shakes me. It seems that she was talking to me and I didn't hear her. She moves my face to hers so I see her; all I can see is her.

Moments later I feel my fear begin to break as she's running her fingers through my hair that is damp with sweat. She straddles my lap, looking straight in my eyes, speaking softly. It begins to ground me.

I can hear her words now. I'm beginning to understand what she's saying. She tells me I'm okay and she won't let me go. I'm able to breathe a bit easier now. With that, everything else starts to fall into place. Once I feel like I'm no longer suffocating, the panic starts to dissipate.

When I'm home alone, I know from experience that despite my exhaustion, which becomes amplified from the stress of the nightmare, it will usually be a while before I can get back to sleep.

I'll usually turn on the TV or try concentrating on something to read as a way to futilely try to shut down the images in my mind. Sometimes it can take a couple hours to do so. Nothing I do seems to make them any better, disappear any faster, except now when Bella holds me.

She can't prevent my mind from going there in the first place, but she can help me immensely with the aftermath.

Overall, they're getting better. I'm going more nights without than with, but sometimes, they're just so unpredictable.

Bella wants more information.

I wish she would just hold me. It's so much better when I don't have to think, just feel.

"Edward, you didn't tell me you're still having these nightmares. Does your doctor know as well?"

"Yeah, she knows. There really isn't much more I can do except take more pills before I go to bed, but I'd rather not become addicted to Xanax or anything else just so I can sleep."

"How often do they happen?" She strokes my hair lightly.

"Well, they've gotten better, really. It used to be almost every night in varying intensity. Now I'm down to maybe one or two a week, and usually they're not as bad as the one I just had, though.

"I was having a problem with my overnights at work. Even if we were slow, I was afraid to fall asleep and potentially have one. I didn't want all the guys to know. So, I'd make sure I stayed awake all night, but driving home after being awake for twenty-six hours or more was pretty rough. One night I took a chance and went to sleep. I had one. Luckily it wasn't the worst I've ever had, and only my partner, who happened to be the chief flight nurse, Maria, saw me."

"Isn't that the pretty nurse from Brazil that's friendly with Alice? The one that made a pass at you once?"

She looks at me curiously. Nervously, I rake my hand through my hair. "Yeah, uhm, that's her. About that…it's no big deal, really. I was married when that happened...well, barely, but she thought I was officially divorced. The process still had a couple weeks to go, and it was before she became the CFN. We were drunk after the crew went out to the bar after a meeting. I guess one thing led to another and she tried to kiss me. Even though I was split from my wife, I was still technically married and it didn't feel right. It was awkward at the time, but that was then. We were always cool about it afterward. We never let it affect our working relationship. She's in a relationship now, and last I heard, they were pretty serious.

"And yeah, she met Alice because I introduced her to Jasper. She's in school finish her doctorate in psychiatric nursing so I thought Jasper could help her out with some connections. He hooked her up. She and Alice met a couple of times and they just seemed to hit it off as friends.

"So anyway, about the nightmare, we were in the bunk room the other day, and I guess she's a light sleeper. Usually everyone kinda is at work. I was on the bottom bunk, and surprisingly, I was out cold. I don't think I yelled out loud or anything, but I did have a hard time slowing my breathing. As soon as I could, I left the room. She followed me out and saw what a mess I was. She wanted to put us out of service, but I begged her not to. She stayed up with me and I explained everything. I was so incredibly embarrassed, but she made me feel better. She's been working on her PhD in psychology for a while, so we talked pretty extensively as friends and co-workers, not as boss and employee. I've known her for years and she's good people. I know she wouldn't tell anyone else and she won't hold it against me."

I tilt my head back. My hands are intertwined behind my neck and my arms are over my ears in almost a relaxed position, except I'm anything but relaxed. I close my eyes and take a couple deep breaths before move my arms away and continue.

"I hate it so much, Bella, but I want you to know how much easier they are to handle when you're with me. You keep me focused and grounded, so they really aren't that bad. You see the nightmare part is just the tip of the iceberg. It's the paralyzing, irrational fear I feel afterward that I wish I could manage. I've tried everything. You being with me is the only thing that's really worked. Thank you for that."

"I just don't understand though. Why haven't you told me about any of this? Why did you lie to me and tell me that they didn't bother you anymore?" Her tone is a bit short and accusatory.

"What good would it have done?"

"Oh I don't know…I was your best friend and now I'm your girlfriend. You'd think that maybe I would want to know if my boyfriend is struggling with this problem." Cue the sarcasm.

Now I am getting irritated. "How would you fix it Bella? Huh? Tell me? It's just something I have to live with, that's all. Now please, drop it." I move her off of me and roll over with my back to her.

"No. I am not going to drop it!

"Would you stop being a man for just a second, and stop being a stubborn man, forever? Christ! I never said I could fix it, but sometimes it feels better to get things off of your chest without someone offering any solutions. Maybe that alone would make you feel better." It seems it's her turn to be irritated.

Now that my fear is gone, it's being rapidly replaced by anger. And that anger is inadvertently directed at Bella. I can go from zero to sixty in no time flat when I get angry lately. I know this is happening now, but there's little I can do to stop myself from yelling at her.

I sit back up quickly. I can't hold it in. "No, Bella, talking about it will NOT help me! Can't you see it's a fucking embarrassment?

My eyes are wide as I look at her in disbelief.

"For fucking Christ's sake! Do you think I want everyone to know that I was so afraid once, I pissed on myself? "

My brows are lowered in annoyance, not with Bella, but with myself.

"Do you want me to tell everyone that my daughter sometimes wakes up, especially if I fucking scream, and she used to come into my room to cry? I can't even help her when I'm in the middle of this fucking shit. Most of the time I don't even realize she's there until I'm back under control."

"Do you want me to tell everyone that I have to reassure my own child every fucking night she stays with me that I'll be all right if the bad dreams come? Now she just stays in her room and cries herself back to sleep."

My voice softens a bit, momentarily as I take her hand and put it against my heart.

"I hear her, Bella, every fucking time."

"As soon as I can, I go in there and she tells me she doesn't want me to have bad dreams. But there's nothing I can do to stop them. Don't you think I would do it for my own daughter so she's not afraid to stay with me at night anymore? It almost got to the point that Tanya wanted to stop her from staying with me on school nights because Kate would be so tired the next day. Thankfully, Kate insisted she wanted to stay with me, because she wanted to be with me so I wasn't alone all the time. We compromised that if I had a bad dream and woke her up, that she had to stay in her room and I would come to her when I could, so she would see I was okay. Then she could fall back to sleep. For Christ's sake, I'm fucking up my own kid! I would stop it if I could, but there is nothing you, or anyone else can fucking do!

"Now I've told you everything! So next time when I fucking ask you to drop it, JUST FUCKING DROP IT!"

My shaking hands are running through my hair and coming back down to scrub across my eyes. I rest my face in my hands with my elbows on my knees. I take in a deep breath and slowly let it out.

I know she didn't deserve that.

I have to apologize, but I have to calm down first.

I close my eyes and concentrate to let go of any misplaced residual anger and will myself to stop shaking. I start to apologize, only I'm too late. She's crying. I fucking made her cry this time for sure. There's no way these are happy tears.

Before I can say anything, I hear her soft voice. "Why are you so angry with me, Edward? You kept asking if you thought I wanted everyone to know about all this. Well, no, of course not. But I just thought I was someone you could confide in, and not someone who is clumped in with the masses that you describe as everyone. I guess I was wrong. I just wanted to help. I'm sorry."

Her tears rapidly turn my anger into guilt. "No, Bella, please, please don't cry. I'm an ass and I didn't mean to yell at you. You certainly did nothing to deserve it. I was wrong, please don't cry. Sometimes I just get angry and say and do the wrong things. I know you only want to help me, and believe me you do. You help me so much. Just being with you made me calm down so quickly. It usually takes a lot longer.

"Baby, please, I need you so much, I love you. I'll tell you anything you want to know. I just didn't want you to worry or think you had to help me with them. I'm getting better at handling them, I think. Well except for yelling at you tonight. I promise, they are becoming less frequent and less intense. Hopefully soon, I won't have them at all anymore."

I touch her arm tentatively, hoping the contact isn't as unwelcome to her as I think it could be right now.

"I wasn't hiding, it's just that no one can prevent them from happening, and honestly, a big reason why I don't talk about them is that they are humiliating. You've already seen me so helpless where I couldn't do anything for myself. This is mental and not physical, but I don't know how much more you are able to handle before you realize I'm not worth your love. I don't want you to think I'm any less of a man because of them. I have enough reasons for you to realize I'm not worth your time, I just don't want to add to it. Please say you'll forgive me?"

She is quiet for a while, thinking. "Edward, I just want you to know, I don't like being your punching bag, I'm sorry I pushed you. I care about you and love you so much. I could never think less of you for something like this. It's completely out of your control. But the way you treated me just now, well, that was your choice and completely within your control. Your anger is a problem, even more than your nightmares. I didn't mean to push you, but if this were happening to me, wouldn't you want to know even though there is nothing you can do to change it?"

Fuck, she is right. "Yes, I would, absolutely. I get it, Bella. I'm so sorry. I'm just too stubborn and proud, I know this. I'll work on my temper. I know I can do better, just please, don't give up on me. I promise I'll become a better man for you, baby."

"No, Edward. Don't only do it for me. Do it for yourself and everyone else in your life as well. I'll love you no matter what, so do it for you first, baby."

And I will.

**FL&SC**

I wake to the blare of her alarm. I have to work a double today.

I hit the snooze bar a couple times, which is a habit I'll never outgrow. We've talked about this a while ago, even before I found myself waking up naked with Bella; I think that she is a freak of nature by having the ability to get up after the first ring. I'm pretty sure I would die if I tried that. I won't risk it, so I slap the snooze bar a couple times until I'm sure it's safe. She grumbles at me to just get up, but I can't. This is a hard limit for me, and if she loves me, she'll have to understand.

I make my way into the shower, letting the hot water wake me further. My body wants to protest and turn around to slither back under the covers to where Bella is, all soft and snuggly, but I don't want to be late for work.

I'll just never be able to comprehend how she can go from warm, cozy, and deeply asleep in one moment, to awake and ready to start the day in the next. I need to be eased into the morning; otherwise it is like jumping headfirst into freezing water.

I remember at one point she tried to reason with me that I had two jobs which include long shifts and allow sleeping at night during down time. Her argument sounded like a valid one; if an emergency came in while I was sleeping, I don't have the option of a snooze bar. I have to immediately get up and out without dragging my feet. If I can do it then, I should be able to do it now.

I explain to her that in theory, she's right, but in reality, it's a very infrequent occurrence that me, or most other people in my line of work, sleep the same way when we are in the bunk room, as when we are home in our own beds. The sleep is not very restful, knowing that you'll probably soon have to get up in a hurry and be immersed into a high stress situation, potentially having to risk your own safety while attempting to help someone. It's even harder trying to fall asleep while your mind still is racing with adrenaline after a mission, especially if things don't go so well. The environment at work is usually not conducive to a good enough night's sleep where you feel so comfortable that you have to sneak in a few more minutes.

Nevertheless, I feel surprisingly well rested, considering my panic attack and the aftermath, which included my horrible treatment of Bella from last night.

A nightmare like that would normally have cut out two to three hours of my sleep, if not the rest of the night, but despite everything, Bella was there for me again. I held her close to me and fell peacefully back to sleep.

She's magic and everything I will ever need. After the way I treated her, she should have sent me home, but somehow, she forgave me. All she had to do was hold me and I felt my anxieties melt away.

It's not even been a week since the wedding, and I know full well that she's it for me, she is all I'll ever need. She was right before my eyes and the one thing that I knew I always wanted, but in a cruel twist of fate, I thought would never be an option. If I had only known earlier, I wouldn't have wasted my time with any of those other girls. I would have waited for my Bella. Then, I was happy to have her in any way she agreed to be in my life. Now, I know that one day, I will ask her to be my bride.

She is closer to me than anyone else has ever been in my entire life, even Alice. Not too many people can say that about someone they have been dating for less than a week, so I know how different we are than most, but I still don't want to rush her. Now that she's with me and I get to love her properly, I'm changed forever. Bella's my life now. I don't want to overwhelm her at all, but I know how I feel, and the intensity of it all makes me a bit nervous.

I remind myself that the woman I'm in love with is Bella. After all we have been through together, I know that she would never hurt me. I feel safe with her, which increases my feelings for her exponentially. She has always gone out of her way to help me, even when I didn't deserve it. She's given me so much as a friend, I could never doubt her sincerity as a lover, and she has since told me she loves me multiple times.

Fuck yeah, I'm on top of the world.

With as much love as I felt for her in our platonic relationship, it has since grown dozens of times over. It's changed my point of view on everything. My love for her now seems to know no limitations, and my heart feels as if it could burst with it all. Funny how sex will do that to a person, and on top of that, it just so happens to be the best sex of my life.

You'd think that with all this knowledge swimming around in my mind that it would stop me from being an asshole to her, but no, my asshole tendencies also know no bounds. I know I'm not perfect, no one is, and I am so far from it, but wrongfully taking out my anger on someone I'm professing my undying love to is a huge contradiction and makes me such a fucking asshole failure.

I have to do better than that. I'll ask Dr. Cope for information about anger management next week.

I understand more than ever the relationships of the people close to me. Alice and Jasper, Emmett and Rose, and especially my Mom and Dad. After thirty-three years of marriage, my parents still look at each other like newlyweds, despite the sleepless nights and troubles that Alice and I plagued them with when we were younger. Well, only me really, Alice was never a problem. Damn overly well-behaved sister, she always made me look bad.

During my first marriage, I thought I loved Victoria. I was prepared to spend the rest of my life with her, but in reality, I can look back on it and in comparison to the way I feel now, see it is as a weak substitute for what love really is. I know this now.

I wish Victoria all the best and truly hope that she has found stability and happiness. But in a way—a pretty big way—I'm glad that things turned out the way they did.

After my shower, I try to be as quiet as I can while getting dressed. Despite that, Bella is awake when I go to give her a kiss goodbye. She's a very light sleeper.

I feel a bit ashamed and embarrassed of the way I treated her last night but her smile toward me is so bright that I hope all is forgiven.

"I didn't mean to wake you, baby. Go back to sleep. I'll call you later."

"It's okay, Edward. I wanted to see you once more before you left. Why are you wearing your clothes from last night? Didn't you bring your flight suit?"

"Uhm, no. I didn't want to be too presumptuous."

"Well, that is just silly. Now you have to go out of your way to go home first to get dressed for work. I'm going to have to work on clearing out some closet space and a drawer in my dresser for you…if that's okay."

"That would be more than okay, Bella. Thank you, and thank you for everything last night, even though I didn't deserve your kindness…again."

"You're welcome, I know you'll work on it baby. I believe in you.

"Do you have everything you need packed for the weekend?"

"Yeah. Everything is ready to go. I'm pretty stoked to meet your dad, even if it means that I can look, but I can't touch you all weekend." I say this to her while I go in to stake out a claim on her neck, and she shivers slightly under my touch.

"But, Bella, I hope you know what you are in for when we get back. I promise to make up for the distance that we have to put between us, and when I do, I'm going to make sure you scream my name under the most pleasurable of circumstances," I tell her seductively.

"I'm looking forward to it, Mr. Cullen." She touches my cheek lightly with a sexy smile.

"Me too, baby. So much."

I leave her apartment reluctantly. What I wouldn't give for a lazy day in bed, making love to Bella all day and all night. I swear, I'll never get enough of her.

Work is a little busy during the day. The issue today is that it's sweltering hot for this time of year. In a flight suit, it's twice as hot. When I was wore bunker gear in the fire department, it was a hundred times as hot, so I guess I can't complain too much.

I'm with Peter, a flight nurse who is my usual partner. He's a good guy and we work well together. He's been with the flight program a while and really loves what he does. It shows. We usually commute together since I drive right past his neighborhood on my way to work. I live about forty minutes from the small airfield we're stationed at, and he lives about thirty minutes out. It saves gas and it builds our rapport as partners.

He's been married for about fifteen years now and has three girls, ages fourteen, thirteen, and twelve. I call them Irish triplets because there is only a little over two years between the first and the third. I told him that he needs to buy his wife more diamonds and be glad the vasectomy took. Otherwise, he could have had enough kids for a football team by now.

Once in a while, he'll join us at the bar if he can. There, he and Bella have met a couple times. I anticipate when his girls get a little older, he'll be coming out for drinks and counting his gray hairs much more often. He recently told me the oldest two already want to date boys. He says he won't allow them to date until they are sixteen. It will be interesting to see how he manages that, and maybe I'll get some pointers for when my time comes with Kate. I'll be surprised if he doesn't have a stroke in a few years. While he is perfectly healthy now, being a father to girls will tend to do that to you, especially teenage girls. I worry already, and Kate just turned ten. It's not that far down the road where she will want to spend more time with some strange boy rather than her dad. I'm sure I'll die a little when that happens.

Pete and I log four jobs for our double shift. It's not too busy that we are tapped out, and not too slow that the shift seems to drag on forever.

One flight was for was for an older guy, recently divorced, trying to impress a new lady. He said he was getting really hot, decided he needed to cool off and dove into a friends pool, head first into the shallow end. It will be one irrevocable mistake he will remember making every day for the rest of his life as a quadriplegic.

Another at around three a.m. involved a drunk guy, a campfire, lighter fluid, and a dare. Stupid ass.

The other two of the four flights were from motor vehicle crashes. One wasn't so serious. Other than some physical scars and a nasty limp for a while, he'll survive. Barring any unforeseen circumstances, his body will recover nicely. His mind will then be his biggest adversary. If he is angry that it happened in the first place and furious that his body is changed, then he will never fully recover until he can just be grateful that it wasn't any worse.

Unfortunately, the other patient was much more serious, and unfortunately, at least initially, very lucid as well. She grabbed me by the arm rather forcefully, with what would be some of the last energy she would ever expend, pulled me close to her and begged me to help her. "Please don't let me die." It's all but a universal death knell for the patient and well known to those of us in our line of work. A quick knowing look passes between Pete and myself to put on an extra layer of mental armor to prepare us for what will almost surely happen. For the most part, the human psyche doesn't like such harsh reminders of how vulnerable one's own mortality is. So you learn how to build a wall and allow yourself to sympathize, but never empathize. You have a job to do, and no matter what, you have to do it to the best of your ability.

Most of the time, our worst patients are unconscious or completely unaware of their fate. Then, we take care of business without personal interaction. It's much easier when they don't look you in the eyes and plead for their life.

When really injured patients who are perfectly conscious beg you not to let them die, or tell you they are going to die, we always know what's coming. Ninety nine percent of the time, there's very little anyone can do to stop it. Even if they were on the operating room table with a team of surgeons ready to intervene, many times, it just wouldn't be enough. You watch their last moments fade away while trying in vain to do what you can to prevent it, knowing you are the only thing standing between them and death, but in these cases, death almost always slips past you and claims its prize. You can never let your own anxiety about having someone die on you get in the way of what you have to do on the job, or for that matter, interfere in your life when you get home. You just have to dust yourself off and get ready to do it all over again. Luckily, those patients don't come along too often. But you tend to remember each one.

In reality, dying a traumatic death is not like the movies where the mortally wounded character just closes their eyes as if they've fallen asleep, and poof, it's over. That rarely happens. In reality, it's much uglier when you know what you're looking at. You see the dullness in their eyes, the waxy color of their face and hands, covered in a cold sweat, and the panic in their expression as the last bit of adrenaline their body can muster courses through their veins. These you can see from a mile away, long before all the other outright clinical signs and symptoms are assessed, and verify that your tentative analysis is all but confirmed.

Obviously, they're not all like that either. Death happens at varying speeds. Sometimes it's immediate, almost like they never knew what hit them. If there are injuries that are obviously incompatible with life, those patients are left at the scene for the medical examiner and the police investigation. Other times it's agonizingly drawn out in a hospital bed, with a shell of a person clinging to each moment while their family watches them die in slow motion—almost like what happened with me.

But once in a while, it happens in front of us. If they haven't injured their head, and they're perfectly aware of their situation, at least initially, then that's when it sucks balls. Only twice did I witness someone have the presence of mind to ask me to tell a loved one goodbye and that they were very much loved by the person who soon would add a number to an ugly statistic. Most of the time, they just beg for their life and that moment is subsequently burned into your memory forever.

It's a morbid reality, and one that most people who are not involved in emergency healthcare would never understand, but if it wasn't for unfortunate twists of fate, poor choices, or downright stupidity, I would be on the unemployment line. They are my job security, and there is no shortage of them either.

No one we come into contact with ever imagined they would be taking a ride in our helicopter when they woke up in the morning, and in many cases, they will never be the same. It's a humbling experience, and one I can sympathize with quite easily. Now more than ever.

Hell, I guess I could have fallen into all of those categories, only I didn't need to be flown because my accident happened only a couple miles from a trauma center. For me, it was a poor choice and downright stupidity that I didn't insist that we avoid going back over the weakened floor, and a tragic twist of fate that the floor gave way and they fell to their deaths, but for some reason, I was spared.

It will be a year soon. A year that Harry is dead and I killed Jared. I don't want to mention anything. Maybe everyone will let it go and hopefully not act different or make a big deal out of it, because I certainly don't need any reminders.

The memories are etched in my brain, and if I suddenly found myself deaf and blind with nothing to distract me, they would be there running a constant loop in my mind.

I definitely don't need any reminders.

**A/N: Now you can go vote.**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Just a small chapter until later this week.**

**Thanks to my beta kitchmill.**

Chapter 18

Edward

I'm nervous as we arrive at the house where Bella grew up. We're here for the weekend, celebrating her birthday with her dad. I need to make a good impression. They don't know it yet, but someday, I plan to make this man my father-in-law.

The house is just as she described it to me and so is Charlie. Ahem, I mean Chief Swan, or Sir, which is what I'll call him.

He eyes me skeptically as Bella introduces us. The first thing he mentions, after the obligatory hellos and handshakes, is the sleeping arrangements—Bella in her childhood room and me on the couch. By the tension radiating off him from my presence next to his daughter, I honestly think that by the end of the night, he'll have me sleep in his bed next to him so he'll know where I am at all times.

I try to lay low and stay close, but not too close, as she and Charlie catch up.

I'd like to take both Bella and Charlie out for dinner, but she refuses, saying that cooking for her favorite guys makes her happy.

Later that day after a trip to the grocery store to stock up Charlie's pantry and fridge, Bella is in the kitchen, happily slaving away despite the fact that we are here for her birthday. Maybe one day I can convince her that she should take care of herself once in a while, but I've learned not to argue with Bella about these things. I never win.

Luckily, I convince her to pick up a store made birthday cake and not bake her own. That would just be too sad, and given my delicate emotional state lately, I could break down into tears while singing her happy birthday over it. That certainly wouldn't earn me any Brownie points with Charlie.

I suppose Charlie knows as well as I do, his daughter will not listen to reason about dinner, so he relaxes in his recliner and turns on the television. He's a big college football fan and during the season, this form of religion takes over his TV. It's at least a topic we have in common, so I sit and watch it with him. I try to talk about the game, dazzle him with my insights into various teams and forecasts, but I'm met with less than enthusiastic replies. I hear my voice much too often in this conversation and I begin feeling horribly awkward, knowing he has no intention to talk about sports with me.

About fifteen minutes after my one sided conversation attempt, he clears off a side table, deciding this is a good time to clean his service revolver. Of course, it's a blatant act of intimidation, and it's working. He hates me already, and I've only been here a few hours.

He lowers the sound on the TV and starts the interrogation that I thought would have come sooner. Bella is just out of earshot, still in the kitchen.

I can see the concern in his eyes for his child, his little girl, who has grown into the woman I love. I get it. I'm a threat because I have the ability to hurt her, only that would never be an option because I worship her.

I want to convince him that I'm worthy of Bella, so I welcome his questions, but I know that regardless of my answers, it will be a hard sell. In his eyes, I know I'm guilty until proven otherwise.

For close to an hour, he grills me while cleaning his gun between inquiries. He asks such personal questions that the only time I would entertain answering any of them to someone I just met, is under these circumstances.

He asks me about my failed marriage, why I didn't marry my child's mother, how much money I make a year, religion, politics and how I got the scar on my throat. Nothing seems to be off limits. Thankfully he doesn't ask anything about sex.

It's difficult and uncomfortable to endure his invasive questions, but I won't lie about anything.

He is quiet for a while, seemingly lost in thought. It makes me wonder if I should go back and change some of my answers. I can't be sure what to make of his expression as he stares at me longer than what would be considered polite, although I don't think polite it what he is striving for.

My eyes move to the silent television, unable to focus on the game, which makes the players movements seem arbitrary and illogical.

"What are your intentions with my daughter, Edward?" I startle at the break in the silence.

Oh shit.

Composing myself, I clear my throat and sit up straight to speak. "Uh, well, Chief Swan, as you know we have only been dating for a short while, however prior to that, Bella was my best friend. She still is. I know that Bella is my past, present and my future. I want to spend the rest of my life making her happy, and one day when she's ready, I want to make her my wife. But for now, I don't want to rush her by talking about marriage at this point in our relationship."

He leans back in his chair, the expression on his face is difficult to read, but he doesn't seem too upset.

"I see. I want to let you know that my daughter never had good taste in men. She seems to attract losers, at least the ones that I know about. She's had some problems. Since then, I feel rather protective of Bella. I want to make myself perfectly clear, so listen closely. If you hurt my daughter, I will do everything humanly possible to hurt you as well. I have the means, and I can make your life a living hell if I so chose. Do not doubt that for one second."

He narrows his eyes and leers at me for a beat before continuing.

"Honestly, I don't know if I like you yet, Edward. It seems as though you have swept my daughter off her feet, though. She called me earlier this week and told me all about you. She's mentioned you before during our conversations, and quite frankly, I never paid any attention, but now she can't seem to complete a sentence without your name in it. She seems happy. If you know what's good for you, you'll keep her that way. Consider this your only warning, Son."

My shoulders relax somewhat as I take a deep breath. "Yes, Sir. I understand."

Overall, this is only slightly more menacing than the standard fatherly warning to the daughter's boyfriend, so I'm not too concerned.

I don't doubt that being head honcho even in a little Podunk town comes with connections and professional courtesies, which can be pretty extensive. If he wanted to make my life difficult, I'm sure he could do it.

All this is necessary posturing on his part. I understand. I would be more upset if he didn't care.

The rest of the weekend with Charlie goes surprisingly well. The mood has lightened considerably between us. We even spend the next morning fishing. There are no additional threats or invasive personal questions, just more of him getting to know me and vice versa. It was then that we finally could talk about college football, he could talk all day. Charlie knows the game. I actually enjoy myself fishing as well, even managing to catch a few keepers, which Bella cooks as an early dinner before we leave that evening.

On our way out the door, Charlie pulls me aside for a minute. I get his approval to date Bella. I'm so excited that I hug him. He almost revokes it after that.

Now I know—no hugging.

As we're packing up the car, getting ready to leave, Bella gets a call from Leah, an old friend, who heard that she was in town. She asks if Bella would stop by to say hello before leaving. Leah and her friend Claire are at a local bar that's along the way home, so it is a win-win situation.

The bar itself is a dive, but I could see that it holds that certain appeal as a familiar neighborhood haunt for locals. It's nothing fancy with a couple dartboards and a well-used pool table that has seen better days. There is cheap beer on tap and only a few better domestics and imports in bottles to choose from. Tonight is ladies night, boasting fifty cent mugs, and it looks like Leah and Claire are well on their way to getting their money's worth by the time we arrive.

Bella introduces me to her friends whom I really had never heard her make mention of prior. I wonder briefly if the two were a couple until I notice a well-muscled guy with tanned skin and black hair make his way over to the group. He wraps his arms around Leah and greets Bella coolly with a nod and her name. It seems as if he is trying too hard to be disinterested, either that, or he's a rude asshole, but that's just my opinion. He looks familiar, but I just can't place where I've seen him before. What I do know is that I don't like him.

He doesn't offer a handshake as we are introduced and I'm not broken up over it either. His name is Jack or Jake, I don't really remember, because not long after douche bag number one is introduced, douche bag number two shows up. Henry—I don't forget his name, even though we never get the opportunity for a formal introduction. He is a short stocky guy that has a beer gut, greasy brown hair and bad skin.

As he comes bounding over from another area of the bar, he swoops Bella into a big hug and tilts her backward into a mouth-to-mouth kiss. He moves one hand to her chest and the other on her ass. After a moment or two, he moves his mouth away from hers to mention something about her "bigger tits."

I think I'm dreaming for a second, because surely what I'm witnessing could not be happening in reality.

Some strange man is not touching, kissing and disrespecting my Bella.

Unfortunately, I'm not waking in a cold sweat to realize it's merely a bad dream. This is the first time in my life that I'm disappointed I'm not having a nightmare.

I could feel my anger start to vibrate through me as everyone witnessing this, except me, is finding the display rather amusing.

I separate them physically and notice as Bella casts an incredulous look at the intruder, then glances over to me with unease. Maybe it's more like a twinge of fear.

She opens her mouth to speak, but doesn't get a chance. I beat her to it. "WHAT THE FUCK, DUDE?"

He has the nerve to ask, "And who are you?" Bella is already pushing ineffectively at my chest with both hands to try to act as a mediator, or do damage control, I'm not sure.

"I'M her fucking BOYFRIEND! Who the FUCK are YOU?"

He is definitely not taking this situation seriously because he is laughing when he says, "Name's Henry. Too bad she's taken, though. I've never noticed what nice tits she has until today. Now I guess I'll have to wait my turn. Do me a favor and just send her back up this way when you're done with her."

Surely he's drunk, or maybe out of his mind, because a sane and sober man would not be so foolish as to say such things about Bella in my presence.

I can't hold back putting my hands on him and Bella is standing in front of me. I move her away probably a little more roughly than I should because I need instant, unfettered access to the asshole. I quickly grab his shirt with both fists and pull the short bastard up on his tip toes to my height.

I couldn't hear or see anyone around me clearly. I was focusing only on the target of my rage as he backpedals. While holding my fists on his shirt, he says that he's just kidding, that he's Bella's friend and he works with Jake, as if I know who the fuck that is.

My blood is surging audibly through my brain, while I have every intention to spill his on the floor.

I can feel Bella trying in vain to grab my arms away as I let him down, but it's only to move my hands from his shirt and put them around his throat.

She is screaming at me to stop, but my mind registers her interference as only a minor peripheral distraction. My target is set and locked. His hands are weakly digging at mine, trying to loosen my grip. His eyes belie his fear.

I definitely want to scare him, I'm probably going to hurt him, but I wouldn't kill him. However, he doesn't know that. Especially since sentiments that I have every intention of carrying out his homicide, laced with profanity, are spewing forth from me.

His hands continue trying to pry mine away while whispering out an apology and what is shaping up to be an unsatisfactory explanation of his actions and words.

He's had a little too much to drink, he hasn't seen her in a while, she knows that he has a reputation as a joker; these are some of the excuses for his behavior.

The thought of him taking the liberty of touching and humiliating Bella for any reason is causing my vision to blur into a red hue. And I don't care how sorry he is either.

I release one hand go from his throat, curl it into a fist and punch him in the gut. Letting go completely as he bows forward, I push my knee up into his face and he falls to the floor like the piece of garbage he is.

Bella is now in front of me trying to push me backward. I suppose she thinks I will continue to hit him, but I think we're square now. I'm done.

I guess that muscle head, Jack, doesn't like this douche either, because he never so much as lifted his ass off the stool to try to stop me. He should have, because I would have taken him on as well. I like a challenge.

The whole ruckus took less than a minute, and no one in charge of the bar seemed to notice as it was happening. But now that there is a bleeding, drunk guy on their floor, the bartender comes over to ask what is going on.

Bella crouches down and assesses the scumbag's injuries. It's pissing me off. She assures the bartender that he is okay and that her asshole boyfriend can't control his temper. The bartender assumes correctly that I'm the asshole boyfriend and promptly tells me to get the fuck out or he'll call the police.

I don't need that, especially since Bella's dad is the chief in this town.

I leave, expecting Bella to come with me. She isn't moving. When I stop my progress to wait for her, she screams at me to get out. She yells that she will meet me outside in a while. Meanwhile, she's still tending to the scumbag as he is sitting upright now, playing it up to get more of her attention.

I want to walk back and kick him in the face for good measure, but I walk outside to my car instead.

Almost twenty minutes later, Bella comes out. She doesn't look very happy at all. She gets in the car, slams the door and won't look at me when she tells me to drive her home.

I start to apologize, because I know she wants me to, but in reality I'm not sorry. She knows this as well as I do, and all her frustration that she tried to stifle a moment ago pours out of her in waves as she begins yelling at me.

I don't make it out of town before I pull over so she can argue with me without the possibility of us getting into an accident.

"You had no right to beat him like that! He was drunk, and yes, he went overboard, but he was only joking. Jake says that's the kind of guy he is. You just can't beat a man like that, Edward."

Bullshit.

She admits, she barely knows him, she only met him twice before. I don't care what kind of guy he is. He has no right to treat Bella that way, or any other woman for that matter. I'm sure that ninety nine percent of men, if put in my place, would have not been pleased with his actions.

True, most would not have reacted as strongly, but some may have given it to him even worse. It doesn't matter now. What's done is done. No one disrespects Bella like that and gets away with it.

"Bella, if the same thing happened a hundred times over, the dude would have my hands on him each time, regardless of what you say now. No one should be permitted to treat any woman like that, especially not mine, with me standing right there nevertheless." I'm getting aggravated and starting to yell.

"He was drunk. He isn't usually like that!" She yells back.

"How would you know?" My voice reaches a couple octaves higher than what would be normal for a full grown man.

"You said you barely even know him. I don't give a shit how drunk he was, or if he was as sober as a priest. He had his hands and mouth all over you."

My voice gets progressively louder as my frustration builds. Even though we're parked, my hands take up permanent residence on the steering wheel, gripping it tightly. Otherwise, I'd be using them to tear my hair out.

"For God's sake, how am I the one you are angry with here? Do you allow drunken strangers to take these kinds of liberties with you normally?"

She throws her arms up in the air. "Please, just stop being unreasonable!"

"Me? You were the one in there for twenty minutes kissing his boo-boos while I was waiting outside, and I'm unreasonable?"

"Edward Anthony Cullen. I'm warning you, stop being an asshole! Right! Now!"

I swear, if we weren't in the car, she would probably be stamping her foot. As it is, her face is turning as red as I've ever seen. She's pissed off, I'm pissed off, it's not a good combination.

"Yes, I helped clean him up, but I was also talking him out of pressing charges against you. I don't think you would want my dad filling out the police report, would you?"

"Maybe your dad should know what kind of a degenerate you have as an acquaintance. If this fucker walks up to you and kisses you while groping your ass and tits out in public, he is the kind of guy to slip something into your drink. That way, he's got a sure thing lined up so he could finish up in private later."

"I mean, I admit, I really don't know him that well, but you're overreacting. Again! I can't believe he would do something like that." Her last sentence is slightly less confident and sounds like she is trying to convince herself and not me.

There is nothing reticent about my voice because I 'm still angry. One hand flies off the steering wheel, into the air and slams back down in a fist. "Bullshit! Guys who respect women wouldn't do that, especially in public to a woman they only casually know. He's a fucking predator, Bella. At best, he's just a pervert, but I think it's worse than that. You're the one that should be pressing charges on him for sexual assault."

"Edward, it was all I could do to talk him out of calling the police and having you arrested for assault. You cut his lip and gave him a bloody nose. Nothing is broken and he doesn't need stitches, but still, you had your hands around his throat and you were strangling him. I thought you were going to kill him. You said you were, and it was as if nothing was going to stop you. It's like you were in a trance or something." She shakes her head, her eyes plead with me to see her point of view as well.

Her voice changes, and it is less angry and more concerned. "I'm worried about you, Edward. You have a serious issue with your anger and it scares me. It's something we're going to have to work on if we're going to be able to move forward. It's just not healthy."

I know I have a problem. I've always been a bit of a hot head, mostly when I drink, but lately, I know it has gotten much worse, even without alcohol. I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm going to deal with it, but now she is trying to make me feel guilty for wanting to protect her, and that gets me irritated too.

"Jesus Christ! Some sleaze fucking touches you and I don't like it, so you threaten me? What are you going to do? Fucking leave me because I protected you?" As the words are leaving my mouth, I understand that I'm overreacting, but I can't stop myself while surrounded by the haze of my anger.

"I'm not threatening you, Edward, and I'm not going to leave you, but you need help with this and I'm not the one that can help you. Your temper is a problem. You have to see that. You never swear except when you start getting angry. You get sarcastic and cruel, and that's just how you treat me. It's worse for anyone else. But I have to wonder, if I make you mad enough, would you put your hands on me as well?"

My eyes are wide for a moment. "Holy shit, Bella!"

I try to take a couple deep breaths in order to calm down while closing my eyes. I realize that yelling at her won't instill confidence in her that I would never do such a thing, so I lower my voice. "I can't believe you think that I would hit you. Look, I know you had that problem with James, but for Christ's sake, I'm not him. I've never hit a woman and I never will. So what makes you think that I would hit the woman that I love and care about the most, even though she is making me fucking crazy right now?" My voice couldn't help but raise a little with that sentence, but I'm momentarily proud of myself for reigning it in.

"I don't know, Edward, you frighten me. It's like no one can get through to you once you get to a certain point. You phase out from everything and everyone around you."

"Well, you're pissing me off right now and I still can have this conversation. I'm not smacking you around, am I? I know I need to talk to Dr. Cope, and I told you I will, I just don't like it when you hold it over my head like this. Like I'm some kind of mental case and I should be ashamed that I lost it when a strange man put his filthy hands all over you."

My emotions are all over the map. I want to show her I can be calm and rational, but then, the more I talk, the more I get amped up. I go from angry to repentant every other breath and it is draining me.

"I think that a good number of men would react the same way if they were me. Yes, I have a problem. I know that and I promised I will get help, but I think getting mad in this case was justified. What if some woman I barely knew came up to me and put her hand in my pants? Oh wait, you'd probably get mad at me for it because somehow it would have been my fault. Maybe I slept with her before or maybe my reaction to it wasn't as strong as it should have been. In ten minutes you would probably accuse me of liking it."

Shit, now I'm being derisive and nasty again.

"Edward, you're just being ridiculous, so please stop." She looks at me with a tired expression.

"Yes, I would be upset if the situation was reversed, and okay, I agree to an extent that getting mad was justified, but there is a difference between getting mad and being almost homicidal." The statement is almost posed as a question, as if she is begging me to see the difference.

"I saw the look on your face as soon as you pulled him off of me. I knew you weren't even there anymore. You were on autopilot, completely giving in to the anger you felt.

She traces her hand over my arm tenderly and I instinctively feel myself respond. She calms me and I move into her touch. Her voice is sympathetic. "I was terrified. I really thought you were going to really hurt him, or even kill him. Everyone else took me aside later and told me that Henry deserved it, that he's a jerk that can't keep his hands to himself when he drinks. They didn't invite him, he was there when they got to the bar. They don't like him either, but regardless of that, you were out of control.

She pauses and sighs. Her voice is small, she almost whispers, "Edward, you pushed me away so hard that I fell down to the floor."

No, that can't be right.

I remember moving her away, but I didn't knock her down, did I?

I shake my head adamantly. She must be mistaken. "No, Bella, I wouldn't have done that. I remember moving you out of the way, but it wasn't hard enough to knock you down."

"I'm not lying, Edward. You pushed me down to the floor." Her voice is still soft as not to frighten me.

I just sit there and stare at her, conscious-stricken. There is no way to justify that or explain it away. I would never intentionally hurt her, but in my anger toward someone else, it could have easily happened.

"I…I don't even know what to say…" Remorse and disbelief flood my mind as I look away from her in shame.

Her voice is louder and she speaks quickly, moving my face back to look at her. "Edward, don't get out of control with guilt now, please. Let's just do everything in moderation for just this once, please? Yes, you pushed me hard enough to knock me over, but considering my lack of coordination, it really doesn't take all that much. I did stumble a bit to help the process along. I can see where this is headed already, so please don't get crazy over it, okay? You're going to talk to Dr. Cope, so that's a step in the right direction."

Her hands caress my cheek tenderly as she looks into my eyes. With that simple touch, she wipes away any remnant of anger to the point that I can't imagine ever again feeling the extent of the rage I was experiencing a short time ago. "I love you so much, Edward. You have a beautiful soul, but this anger that shows up once in a while tarnishes that beauty. I want our relationship to be healthy and grow. I'm pretty sure you want the same things, and this would really help us with that goal."

I shake my head and stare out of the car window for a moment as I begin to speak. "I don't know what's wrong with me lately. I've always had a bit of a short fuse, but it's much worse now than it ever was in the past."

I look at her again and with determination in my voice, I say," I swear I wasn't always like this. I think it's because of stress or something. I'll do it this week. I love you more than I ever thought possible, Bella. I'm so sorry. You have to believe me. Please."

"I know, baby. Promise me one thing though?"

"Anything."

"I don't want you apologizing a thousand times, punishing yourself or hating yourself. You didn't mean it, that much is obvious, and I'm a klutz. No harm, no foul. This is over right now and we move forward, no looking back."

She knows me too well. Since that is what she wants, I'll manage to keep that promise. I'd do anything for this woman.

I nod in acceptance. She seals the promise with a sweet kiss and light is shed upon a formerly dark patch of my soul. I know that despite my faults, her love for me is unconditional. One day I'll be a man that she won't have to make excuses for. One day, somehow, I'll be the man she deserves.

**A/N: Stick with him. I promise, it only gets worse…before it gets better.**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: I think I should place a warning over this chapter for sexual situations that may be uncomfortable for some.**

**Okay, so I'm really surprised—I didn't mean to start a fuss, but about three quarters of the reviewers on the last chapter think B was wronger, more wrong, wrongest… or whatever.**

**Sorry my beta doesn't look over my A/Ns.**

**BTW thanks to my beta kitchmil,l without her, the whole thing would look this bad, baddest, badder…you know what I mean. And anything posted that still does, is all my fault.**

**This chapter is a bit of a rollercoaster ride, so I guess, what I'm saying is, it's par for the course.**

**One last reminder, I really don't know how to do this whole writing thing. Like everyone else, in RL, I have a full time job for which I went to school and had extensive training, I did this on a whim and really know what I'm doing, so don't expect too much. But thank you so much for reading, reviewing and nominating me anyway.**

Chapter 19

Bella

We wake to a beautiful day that thankfully, we both have off together. Edward wraps his arms around me as soon as he opens his eyes, his chin placed atop my head with my cheek serenely nuzzled into his chest as I listen to his strong steady heartbeat. He hasn't let go for almost twenty-five minutes now. We both lie peacefully, still naked from last night, unwilling to face the day just yet.

We managed to settle our differences from the incident at the bar. Edward is going to ask Dr. Cope for extra time, as well as a referral to any other therapist necessary to help him deal with his anger. I also apologized for letting my fear from the situation turn into resentment directed at Edward. Make up sex after not being able to touch each other all weekend was a potent combination.

Now, I can feel his erection against my leg, yet he doesn't move. Knowing a battle is raging in his mind, I tuck into him, hoping some of the pain he is burdened with can somehow be transferred to me if I can just get close enough.

When he looks at my face for the first time since we awoke, I can see a profound sadness in his eyes that clouds the usual bright, clover leaf color to a dull leaden green. I feel helpless, knowing this is yet another struggle I can't help him with. I can only be nearby, ready to pick up the pieces when they fall.

Today, I'm more ready than ever. Today marks the one year anniversary of the fire.

"I'd like to go to church today. I want to say a prayer for Harry," he says solemnly. There is no grave marker for Harry since his family had his remains cremated and the urn is with them. "Then I want to go to the cemetery to visit Jared. Come with me, please?"

Nodding, I offer him a sad smile as I run my fingers through his hair. He holds me tighter.

I remember that Esme called last night when we got home from my dad's house, asking if we would join her and Carlisle for dinner today. We all know why, and it isn't because we missed it last Sunday.

Edward remained uncommitted then, saying that we would be there if we could. I know that Esme being Esme, she will make enough food for a small army and set plates out for us, just in case.

I think it would be a good idea for us to accept his Mom's invitation.

"Have you decided if we're going to your parents' house for dinner?"

"I don't know. I might just want to stay home with you. I doubt I'll have much of an appetite by then. Why? Do you want to go?"

"Well, I guess it's not really my decision, but I was just thinking about that first morning I met you and your family. You weren't the only one in bad shape. I know this is a lot for you to deal with, but don't underestimate their grief as well. They love you so much. We all do."

I kiss the tip of his nose and a faint smile crosses my face. It isn't returned. I don't want to add to the weight that he is feeling, but I'd like him to have an idea, from what I remember about those first days after the accident, what it was like for his family, as well.

"You know, I wouldn't doubt that your mom thinks of this day like her own personal Thanksgiving. She's so grateful to have a second chance with her son. Going to dinner tonight would make her very happy, if for nothing else, just to hug you, touch you, and remember that you're still here with her. As a parent, put yourself in her shoes for a moment."

After that last sentence, that's when I see it, everything clicks for him.

"Uhm, all right, yeah. I'll call Mom and let her know we'll be there." He nods unenthusiastically.

I feel relieved. This will make his parents so happy, and being with loved ones will be good for him also. "I know that will make her ecstatic, your dad too. Parents can be real needy like that. I'll bet your mom will give you a bigger bear hug tonight than Emmett." He manages a weak smile.

The only sound between us now is the sound of our breathing. He looks to be deep in thought. All is quiet for a few minutes when he suddenly breaks the silence. "Bella?" He pauses for quite a while after getting my attention, almost to the point that I am nervous of what he intends to say. My fingers stop moving over his scalp in anticipation of his question.

The sadness in his eyes is replaced by another emotion that I can't quite read.

"Have you ever thought about children?"

I can almost feel the blood drain from my face. What exactly is he asking me?

"What about children?"

"Uhm, did you ever think that you wanted some of your own? Do you want to be a mom someday?"

His questions sound so simple, so matter-of-fact. A couple minutes ago, I mentioned his mom, and about him being a parent, now he segues from that into asking me about kids. Is he testing the water? Does he have any intention of jumping in? With me? It is still so hard for me to reconcile that this beautiful man is here with me, let alone that we are naked together and talking about me having children.

I'm unsure how to answer him. I have to play it cool, yet answer honestly, while not giving away too much.

I giggle nervously as my heart beats frantically in my chest. "Wow. That's a pretty heavy question to spring on me out of the blue. Uhm, well, when I was a young girl, I used to wonder how my life would turn out—what I'd do for a living, what my future husband was doing right at that moment, what he looks like, and how many babies we'd have while we were busy living happily ever after. As I grew up, I looked back on those daydreams as those of a naive little girl, a girl that had no idea of the complexities and realities of life. Not too many people ever get the happily ever after they once dreamed about."

I hope that didn't come across as cold or cynical. I want everything with this man, but at the same time I am afraid of verbalizing those desires. I suppose it is because I don't want to jinx them, so I guess a part of that little girl lives on in me, still.

"You don't want that any longer?" he asks with his brow furrowed.

"It's not that I don't want those things, I'm just afraid to want anything too much. I guess I'm familiar with disappointment, and to some extent, I've learned to mitigate heartbreak by appreciating what I have, while improving and changing only those things that I can."

He lets out a grunt, unhappy with my answer. "Be vulnerable for a second, Bella. Answer my question. Pretend it's a perfect world and you can get what you want. Do you want children?"

"Yes."

"Marriage?"

"What about marriage?"

Rolling his eyes, he quickly remarks, "Are you intentionally trying to be difficult?"

"No-oo," I say sheepishly, but I suppose I am.

"Do you want to get married?"

"Right now?" I say nervously.

"Bellaaaaaa...answer my question." He squeezes and moves my shoulders from side to side, exasperated. He's trying to gently shake some sense into me. The sheet once just barely covering me falls slightly, exposing my breasts, but I don't feel so self-conscience that I have to cover myself immediately.

"I'm asking if you can you picture yourself as a married woman."

I reply confidently, "Yes, absolutely."

But only with him.

"Was that so hard?"

"Maybe a little." I say with a grin.

I certainly can, and have imagined what life would be like as Mrs. Edward Cullen, but we've only been dating a week—it's not something I should just blurt out right now. He can't be serious about it either, so he may just be making conversation.

"And you call me stubborn," he says with a bright smile while attacking my neck with tiny nibbles and kisses. For just a while, I see the spark reignite in his eyes, and I know that I may not be able to take away his heartache completely, but I can lessen his suffering.

I giggle and squirm. Soon his kisses turn heated, and I return his desire. I feel the need to hold my cards close to my chest, for now. I do want all those things and to experience that life with this man.

We spend the rest of the morning losing ourselves in each other, there is so much to explore. We create moments of flawless passion that may be ephemeral, but they will never be entirely forgotten. We indulge in this secluded world where we can escape reality for a while because we know the difficulties of the real world are never too far off.

This afternoon, those difficulties will take the form of a single small grave marker tucked into a cemetery in an impoverished area of a nearby city. The same city and citizens he was once charged with safeguarding against tragedy. A service, he is so acutely aware, he is no longer able to provide.

**FL&SC**

The early afternoon is still bright and sunny. It's a direct contradiction to Edward's current mood.

After visiting the church, we drive in silence some thirty minutes. I want to talk to him about this, about anything, but I know that sometimes he's not up for conversation.

Still, I feel it is necessary to remind him that if and when he wants to talk, I'll be there to listen.

He nods, but doesn't take me up on the offer.

He drives in through the gates and after a few turns, he stops the car. For a while he stares out the window at nothing. Maybe he is gathering his composure. I wait in silence.

"Bella, come with me? I'd like you to meet him."

"Okay. Show me."

We walk up to Jared's grave. Edward bends down to brush away the grass clippings by the small stone. He sits on the ground and is quiet for a while. He pats the grass next to him. I sit down and lean my head onto his shoulder.

"Hey, Jared. I want you to meet someone very special to me. This is my Bella. I've told you about her before. She helped me after the fire.

"Remember I told you that we became friends? Well, now she can't get rid of me. I brought her here so she could meet you. She already knows how special you are to me. She's like an expert at making people all better. She still helps me now. Pretty great, right?

"It's hard to believe it's been a year, buddy." His head drops backward, eyes closed but facing skyward and the bright sunlight shines over his face. Two days of golden blond stubble has taken over his features. He sighs audibly and opens his eyes once again.

"You know, when you're a kid, a year seems like such a long time, but the older you get, the shorter it seems to last. This year seemed to speed by for me. I want you to know I still think about you every day and that I'll never forget you.

"I haven't even told Bella this, but recently, I got in contact with a family you used to live near, your friend, Benjamin's family."

He begins to fidget, randomly picking blades of grass and clover that has already grown back thickly since the last mowing.

"He said he misses you and that he wishes you were in kindergarten with him this year. I told him not to worry, that you would probably peek down from heaven once in a while to keep up on everything that was going on in class. Oh, and he wanted to let you know he can finally ride a two wheeler like you used to do, and that soon he thinks he will even be able to do some jumps.

"He told me all about how you taught yourself how to ride and how you would always use his big sister's two wheeler. You didn't even care that it was purple, just as long as you had a bike to ride."

He laughs a bit to himself, I wouldn't doubt if he is seeing his childhood as a young boy and comparing himself to Jared, as seen through Benjamin's eyes.

"He also told me that you really liked Transformers. You know, his mommy and I are like pen pals on the internet, so I can let them know that I visited you today, and that I left you this."

From his pocket he takes out a small boy's toy. Edward remains stoic, but my heart breaks and tears begin streaming down my face, unbidden. Just the fact that this beautiful, caring man is sitting on the ground, talking to a patch of ground that entombs the remains of a young boy that changed his life so drastically is more than I can bear. Now as I see him holding the toy, his eyes are dry, but despite their lack of tears, they belie the intense sorrow in his demeanor. I choke back my sobs as best as I can.

"It's Optimus Prime. He was my favorite when I was a boy. I had one just like this. Did you know that when I was your age, I liked Transformers too? Yep, they have been around that long. I bet you and me, we woulda' been great friends."

"I know Bella didn't even have any Transformers when she was a little girl because girls didn't have the cool toys right? She probably had those 'my little horsie dolls.' They didn't even change into robots or anything...if you ask me, that's booorrriiiinnnng."

I wipe my tears away to defend my gender while embracing this lighter moment. "They are not called my little horsies! They are called My Little Ponies, and they were my favorites. I used to brush their hair and pretend that they had to go to school where I was their teacher, and in the summer time they would go on vacations with all the other ponies in their family. They were so much fun."

"Hear that, Jared? Maybe we should've played with ponies instead. Lemme think about that...naaaaaahhhhhh! Transformers ROCKED! Right buddy?"

The rest of our time there is spent with Edward talking to Jared about when he was a boy and how he became a fireman. From that point forward, I managed to control my emotions at the scene playing out in front of me.

Edward never shed a tear, his voice never cracked. We say goodbye and make our way back to the car. I'm honestly relieved. I envisioned a much more difficult visit. In fact, it seemed harder for me than for him.

I'm a little puzzled when Edward hands me the keys to his Volvo and sits in the passenger's side. My previous sense of relief appears to be a bit premature.

I look at him, and his red rimmed eyes let me know this is not over yet. Not by a long shot.

He takes one Xanax from his prescription and swallows it without any water. He tells me his chest hurts. I know the pain he feels there is his heart breaking all over again.

I reach over and hug him, and the damn that held back his tears breaks. I hold him until he has nothing left to cry.

I solemnly drive him home. When we arrive, I take his hand and bring him right into his bedroom, pulling down the covers to the bed. He strips to his boxers and lies down. Kicking off my shoes, I nestle in next to him. I wrap my arms around him again, never wanting to let go—I couldn't if I tried. I hold him tightly until his breathing evens out, until I know he's asleep.

For a while, I lie there just watching this incredible man peacefully sleep, wondering about all the demons that he fights against every day. They are still a mystery to me.

I study his face, his hands and his forearms, wherever there is a little skin exposed. I examine his hands in more detail. I see how capable and accomplished they are at any task he attempts, except for maybe baking a cake that isn't lopsided. That thought makes me smile brightly.

It seems as there's nothing he can't do well, once he puts his mind to it. He makes me feel safe and secure, come what may.

His forearms are muscular and defined just like the rest of his body, thick ropes of muscle and vasculature, pure masculine grace. His legs, his abdomen, his back—each so well sculpted. With each little movement, different areas flex, it is fascinating to watch. He is a work of art more than a man, an anatomy lesson in physical perfection. I try to find some flaws amidst his seemingly faultless physical appearance, but each time I find a freckle or a scar, I look again and see that this unique imperfection only makes him more beautiful.

Inside his heart he is perfectly imperfect as well.

His logic and morals are very black and white. He knows right from wrong, and although he may not have chosen the right path consistently, whenever he veered off, he knew exactly where his choices put him.

He is stubborn to a fault, but loves with the same tenacity.

His anger and his passion burn white hot. He tries to temper the first, and I encourage the latter.

Although, at times I cannot understand it, I don't doubt his love for me. It has transformed from more of a brotherly love, to an all-consuming physical and emotional passion that ignited something within me as well, a quality that I wasn't even aware I possessed. He makes me feel desirable, sexy, sensual, and every time we come together, I can feel every emotion he puts forth. His body can speak fluently to mine without words; the physical communication between us is unparalleled.

Just lying here thinking about how enthusiastic Edward is with expressing that passion starts to make me feel a bit warm. I can perfectly envision his body naked before me. To his delight, I have explored every inch, committing it to memory as he has done with me. Between us there are no barriers, nothing to hide. We have more to learn, and I look forward to those lessons. I look forward to more days where we could close ourselves off from the rest of the world and be selfish in our attention to each other. Only him, only me.

I recall a time not so long ago that I feared I would not be able to enjoy our intimacy to the extent that he would expect. I feared that my sex drive, or relative lack thereof, would be a problem in comparison to his. I'm not sure what happened within me, but to say that I've become an eager participant in every interaction would be an understatement. I feel as if a part of me has been freed, and it's an incredible realization. While I enjoyed intimacy before, I'm driven by it now. Driven to him.

He's snoring softly, and as much as I don't want to, I believe I can pull away from him now to let him sleep while I take care of some things around the house for him.

I imagine he will be out for a couple hours yet. I call Alice, who texted me earlier with her concerns for her brother today. We talk for a short time, and I reassure her that he is resting after visiting Jared.

She tells me that she will be at dinner tonight. Jane will be staying home with a sitter. Apparently Rose and Emmett will be there as well.

I tidy up around Edward's already tidy house, do some laundry, unload the dishwasher and do some dusting, just to keep me busy. I contemplate driving to my apartment quickly to get a change of clothes for tonight, but I don't want to risk him waking up and me not being there. Or worse, but unlikely, because of the medication he took, him having a nightmare and me not being there for him while I'm gone.

Just over two hours after he fell asleep, I hear a small noise and a sleepy looking, wild haired, eye rubbing, boxer clad Edward, comes shuffling barefoot into the kitchen. Perfectly adorable. He hugs me and tells me he's feeling better. I look up to him and try to flatten down some of the unrulier bits of his tousled hair.

His hands reach down to the hem of my shirt and lift it up over my head. His eyes have switched from those of a sleepy little boy only moments ago, to a lust filled grown man who's intentions are being made perfectly clear. He went from zero to sixty in one point five seconds, and it was completely unprovoked by me.

He quickly discards my bra, and his mouth and hands roughly move to my breasts. Shivers race down my spine and out toward my extremities. I can feel this in my toes and everywhere in between. My head falls backward as I push my chest out toward him for more exquisite torture. He is rubbing, nibbling, then sucking and biting, marking me as I stand in his kitchen.

He kneels down and kisses along my middle as he unbuttons my jeans. He slides them down as I kick them off along with my panties, and now I am naked before him. He sits back on his heels, his arousal thick, long, and more than obvious as he visually takes all of me in and I do the same to him in exchange. One would think that I would hide from him, but I feel empowered and desirable as he tells me how beautiful I am. His hands are appreciatively moving over the curves of my body ever so slowly and methodically, his eyes fixated, studying every inch his hands move over. He continues to tell me how much he wants me, always, that I make him so crazy that most times he can't think straight. That I am like a drug for him and he is hopelessly addicted to me.

He moves me back toward the counter placing one knee over his shoulder and I feel the magic of his mouth descend to where I need it most. It is not long before I feel my orgasm start to build. Steadily, the intensity rises, and with each new level, I know that it will be that much more incredible when I crash over.

Between last night, this morning and now, I lose track of how many times I have felt this way in the past twenty-four hours. It is so much more than I knew was possible for me only a few weeks ago.

He pushes two fingers into me and the controlled rise of the intense pleasure I was feeling only a couple minutes ago is gone. I am inundated with sensations and blindsided by an orgasm that has all the subtlety of a Mack truck.

I swear, I take the lord's name in vain and make other noises in lieu of words that are none too flattering. It is bliss.

Before my breathing even slows, he turns me around roughly and bends me over, spreading my legs apart by pushing his feet against the insides of my ankles the way a police officer would do to someone he was about to frisk. He grips one hip tightly. I look down and behind me to his feet and I see his boxers on the ground, and suddenly I feel him. With a single grunt, he pushes into me completely. I feel a sharp pain from him suddenly filling me; it's uncomfortable, but not unbearable.

The hand that was guiding his length is now matched with his other on the opposite sides of my hips as I feel him begin to move. The first few thrusts are slow at first but he quickly builds to a fevered intensity as he crouches down behind me, meeting my lack of height to continue. Soon his body is raging against mine. Now instead of crouching, he lifts my lower body up to align with his more evenly as my upper body is splayed out on the counter and my feet are off the ground. I'm not very comfortable in this position and I'm stunned by the intensity of his need.

He is tempestuous and harsh as he moves his large hand over my back, easily holding me down, crushing me into the kitchen island counter. I try, but I cannot move from under his strength. It's almost too much for me to handle. My mind begins racing.

Everything about this is fucking and primal. There is not a shred of love-making anywhere to be found. I am becoming intimidated by his strength and power over me. His movements are unforgiving and on the verge of being brutal.

He seems out of control, and for me, this is no longer enjoyable. This is not right. I don't like the way he is beginning to make me feel.

As I'm about to tell him to go easier and that he is starting to frighten me, his breathing becomes uneven as are his thrusts as he slams himself into me. I can tell he is close. He throws his chest and head backwards and literally roars as he pushes into me ferociously one last time. It hurts and I cry out. I can feel every pulse as he empties himself deep within me, completely oblivious to my discomfort.

It only lasted a few minutes, but I am left feeling uneasy and shaken. Physically used and emotionally discarded.

He releases his grip on me and my body is sore, aching. Anxiety with a twinge of fear clouds my mind. He holds himself up with his arms against the counter as he now leans over me, kissing my back and my neck sweetly as he pulls out of me. The kisses reflect such a disparity from the rawness of a few moments ago.

I move out from under him, scrambling to gather my clothes, not even caring about the remains of his actions now running down my leg, because he didn't bother to use a condom.

He knows I'm on the pill, and we had talked about not using condoms anymore since we are both healthy, but we decided to finish off the box first, so we had something to look forward to. I know there are still some left. He's disappointed me in more ways than one.

Not since being with James or Mike have I felt this debased. I put my clothes on with the desire to cover up as quickly as possible, honestly feeling a bit uncomfortable in his presence.

He watches me as if he senses something is wrong , but unsure as to what it could be. "Bella…what's wrong? Are you all right?" he finally asks in a confused voice.

Is it just a question to placate me, or does he not realize he was out of control? Is it possible that he has the capacity to knowingly hurt me?

He gently grabs my shoulder to turn me around, stilling my erratic and hasty attempt at covering up so he can study my face. His eyes are now frantically moving, scanning every inch, hoping to find a change in the emotions that he sees there. Apparently the answer to his question is obvious to him as his arms suddenly clasp around me tightly. It seems to finally dawn on him that what just happened was not okay.

He doesn't give me time to speak before he becomes profusely apologetic, bent over with his face buried against my neck.

I'm not injured. No real physical harm came to me, but I am upset by how unexpectedly severe and vicious he became. His desire seems to have started from love and affection, but it quickly spiraled out into rage and frustration. It seemedl he was almost disconnected from me as he was simply using my body.

It is the first time I did not enjoy myself sexually with him.

So many emotions are going through my mind that I'm starting to get dizzy. Why didn't I stop him immediately? I cannot believe he was able to draw forth from me such fear. I was always so sure he could never physically hurt me, but now I have a taste of the massive amount of strength he has over me, that his touch frightens me somewhat. Like the lion to the lamb. How could he be so gentle one moment and so volatile the next? Who is he really, and what side of this Jekyll and Hyde sexual behavior are his inclinations most congruent with?

I'm too confused, I need a minute to regroup.

Alone.

I'm tense in his arms. I need a moment to myself and I know I'll be okay. I push away from him and say quietly, "I need to be alone."

You would think this is the ultimate rejection.

He drops to his knees, still naked. "I'm sorry, Bella," he cries. "Please forgive me. I don't know what came over me. It will never happen again, I promise." His breathing is rapid and deep and he is holding me in place. I don't want to deal with this now. I just want to go and take a long, hot shower—alone.

He starts to beg even more ardently, his breathing now panicked as he pleads with me not to leave him. His eyes are darting all over the room, and I think he is on the verge of an anxiety attack, buck-naked in his kitchen.

I kneel down with him and call his name. His breathing is way too fast, his eyes wide and frantic. It takes a few minutes for him to acknowledge me through his rant.

"Edward, stop! Relax, you have to relax, okay? Look, I understand, and sometimes sex is good when it is rough, but this time, it was just so unexpected. I was caught off guard. I wasn't prepared."

He shakes his head adamantly in disagreement. "Oh, fuck! Please, stop blaming yourself for this, Bella! It's not your fault! I didn't even notice I was too rough. Fuck! Fuck! Please, please, forgive me!"

"Just slow your breathing down. You're getting too worked up. I just wanted a few minutes alone to relax and ease my mind, but now, you're in worse shape than I was."

"God, I'm so sorry, please, just don't let me go. I need you to hold me. Don't let me go. Please, I'm sorry."

He starts to calm down as I gently explain all he wants to know. I tell him that he was too rough, but only because it was unexpected. It felt like he was only using my body to eliminate some of the overwhelming negative emotions that overwhelmed him because of the date on the calendar. It was such a different experience from the intimacy we shared just that morning.

Edward has always carried himself with an air of authority and command. Sex with him is no different. He's always perfectly disciplined over everything in the bedroom. But the control he has there, just like the rest of his life, is only existent to a point.

His actions and my reactions, up until today, were mastered and controlled, so for him to act with that kind of disconnected ferocity is not like him at all, and it worries me. Now, he is a mess, having an anxiety attack, kneeling naked on the floor in his kitchen, thinking I'm going to leave him because of it.

He is so much more fragile than he wants anyone to know.

After an hour of hashing out the incident, I realize it is getting late and we should get ready for dinner. I never get my alone time, but the apprehensiveness I was feeling has been replaced by the realization that for all the physical strength Edward has over me, I needn't fear him. He would never intentionally hurt me. In fact, more and more, I think I'm more resilient in many ways than he is.

It takes all of my convincing that we should still go out tonight. Edward would be content just to stay home and apologize to me well into the wee hours of the morning, while beating himself up continuously. I swear, sometimes I think he prides himself on his own ability for self-flagellation.

Most of the previous anxieties I felt have subsided by just calming Edward. Somehow, he wound up more distressed over this incident than I was. We make our way into the shower together. It was my idea as a gesture that we are okay and that this afternoon was merely a mistake. A bump in the road, if you will.

While in the shower, he is the definition of gentle when he washes my hair and body. It's not sexual, it is reverent and respectful. He notices that the imprint of his fingers are now taking the form of bruises on my hips and he kneels before me to kiss each one, leaning his head into me as he hugs me, telling me all over again how sorry he is. He turns me around and must not be happy with what he sees on my back either. I hear him inhale sharply as he embraces me tightly against his chest.

The tears that I know are falling down his cheeks are masked by the spray of the shower, but the gravelly sound of his voice and the redness of his eyes show his emotions.

"I've hurt you, Bella. I didn't even realize it at the time, but I was hurting you. What the fuck is wrong with me?"

"Stop. No more. You know I bruise like an over ripe peach. Remember that one time when you were tickling me and we were wrestling around, laughing so hard that I nearly peed my pants? Remember the bruises I had on my sides after that? I thought you were going to have a breakdown when you saw them. Remember? You know it doesn't take much. But, Edward, bruising aside, I never want to feel the way I did this afternoon, ever again."

"Never again, I swear on my life."

I believe that he never meant to hurt me. I believe he got carried away and was lost somewhere between lust, grief and despair. I've made my peace with it, quickly, but somehow, I think it will be a while before he will do the same.

Dinner is a subdued affair. No one makes any grand gestures or speeches. It is just a night to remind everyone about just how fortunate they really are. Other than a longer than normal hug at the door for her son, Esme holds up with all the grace and refinement of the lady she always is. Carlisle has a few extra hugs and pats on the shoulder for his boy, and Alice seems content to tease her little brother a little extra tonight, as do Emmett and Rose. Edward takes it all in stride, and despite the laughs, his eyes are perpetually sad today, especially when he looks at me.

**FL&SC*

It takes more than two weeks for Edward to touch me again. He intentionally cools things off the moment they turn heated, always finding an excuse that he has something else pressing to attend to. This is such a distinct change from a few weeks ago, where if his ass was on fire, he'd let it burn for a while if it meant that we could have another romp. Now, he seems to think laundry is an acceptable excuse as to why he has no time for sex.

In the meantime, he showers me with cards, flowers, small trinkets, and one not so small necklace. It's a gold heart locket that has a great candid picture of Edward and me that Alice took before we were even dating. We're standing next to each other hugging. He is looking down to me and I'm looking up toward him. It is so clear to me now how much we have loved each other, even then. The expression on his face is so real, it genuinely tells me that he loves me without any spoken words. The other side is inscribed with the words "For eternity." Through his gifts, it seems as though he is reminding me I'm still his girlfriend, if in name only.

I let this play out. It's probably better not to rush him. I know this is his penance, again crowning himself the reigning king of self-imposed punishment. While it's true he needs to work out some issues that I can't help him with, nor can I rush, he needs to do that with his therapist, and not through castigating himself. However, this sex boycott is penalizing me as well. He doesn't seem to realize this. He's so sure that I would and should be revolted by him that he won't listen to reason. I've moved on. He refuses. Stubborn pain in the ass.

I ask if he has talked to Dr. Cope about his latest transgression. His response is "no" and that he has no intention of doing so because it will never happen again. He's also been seeing a different therapist who is an expert that deals with anger problems, but I honestly think all of his issues are tied together. I wish there were a specialist that could make him less stubborn while they were at it.

I intend to finally have it out with him tonight while he's at my apartment for dinner. Knockdown, drag out, if that's what it has to come down to. I'm not scared of him. That only lasted for a moment that one day more than two weeks ago. Once the confusion in my mind settled, I realized he had no intention of hurting me.

We haven't spent the night together since the night before the incident. I know he isn't sleeping well, I can see how tired he has been looking. I'm sure his night terrors are back with a vengeance, but he won't talk to me about it, instead brushing off my concern with lies like "I'm sleeping just fine," or "There's nothing to worry about."

I invite him in and within ten minutes of his arrival, I tell him point blank that he will be staying the night as well as having sex with me. He obviously doesn't seem to appreciate my candor and simply tells me he can't without any explanation, because we both know there isn't one.

He still wants to call all the shots and make my decisions for me. He doesn't appreciate that we are a team and that my say is as valid as his.

Despite not even being in the mood for sex, because honestly, he has me so aggravated at this point that I'm the female equivalent of the iceberg that sunk the Titanic, I tell him he's going to fuck me tonight and like it.

"Bella, I said NO!" He yells at me, pacing the floor, while he rubs his hand over his neck in an attempt to calm himself.

"Why is it that only your decision is the valid one in this relationship, Edward?" I stand in the middle of my living room ready for this battle.

"Because right now you are not thinking rationally! I should have to earn your trust, Bella. I don't feel as if I did that. All I do is screw up. You shouldn't forgive me so easily."

I try to speak at first, but my incredulity at his statement that I am the one that isn't thinking rationally is only allowing a few spluttering noises to escape my mouth, so I start moving my arms. Somehow, that seems to help, and I find my voice. And it's a bit loud. "Are you for real? Who made you the voice of reason? I'm not acting rationally? Hello-ooooo, pot, meet kettle. And exactly what would a tangible indicator of trust earning be anyway? I told you weeks ago that we're good. You got carried away and you were too rough. I get it. I'm not a china doll, Edward. I don't mind rough sex, it's just that you didn't seem yourself. That's what bothered me. I know you have a problem with your temper and true to your word, you're working on it. We've been over this ad nauseam. We've learned our lesson, we've healed and now it is time to move on. The awkwardness and excuses are getting us nowhere except farther apart."

I swallow down some of the aggravation I feel and take the first step toward healing us. I walk over to him and gently touch his face. He starts to melt, but his resistance is strong.

"You won't even talk to me about the nightmares that I know are taking a toll on you. I can see it." My fingers ghost under his eyes where his lack of sleep is evident.

He moves my hand away brusquely. "I'm only trying to do what is right for both of us."

Now I'm angry. "Well, Edward, if that's the case, I'd say you are failing SPECTACUARLY!"

He looks genuinely hurt after that comment, like I kicked his puppy.

"I know, I…I'm failing you." His face is cast down, and he's unable to look me in the eyes. He moves to the couch and takes a seat.

I sit next to him and put my hand on his thigh. My indignation cooled as soon as I saw the sad look on his face. "Oh hell, look…no. That's not what I meant. I'm sorry. I just feel like we're moving apart by your self-imposed intimacy restrictions. I don't want this. I trust you, Edward Cullen, and I love you. So much. Can't you see that? I want you more than anything else. This isn't healing us, it's only making us both irritable. WE should make decisions that pertain to US. I should at least have a say in it."

He sits now with his face in his hands. I wrap one arm around his broad shoulders and kiss his head. His soft hair tickles my nose and I breathe in deeply, he smells so good.

He surprises me when he sits back up and faces me for my next kiss. "I'm sorry, Bella. I love you so much too. This isn't what I intended. I just wanted to make sure I earned your trust. I didn't realize I never really lost it. I don't want to screw this up any more. It's all I seem to do lately. Sometimes I don't feel like I have any control with so many things in my life." He says in a whisper as he puts his arms around me.

We hold each other for a few minutes. I think back on who this man is and all that he has done in his life, and while I realize he certainly has some wounds that are in the process of healing, he's a good man with a gentle heart.

He then has the nerve suddenly break our embrace to take his phone out of his pocket and fiddle with it for a moment.

I can't believe him! Just as I was thinking all these nice things about him, he goes and ruins our moment because he wants to check his phone. I'm livid.

I'm about to lay into him when a song comes on. He stands up and I think for a moment that he is going to walk away. Instead, he takes my hand and asks me to dance. He tells me that he thinks some love songs are a tad cliché, but he heard this song on the radio for the thousandth time the other day and when he finally listened for once, he heard it clearly. He saw himself in the lyrics, and how he feels about what happened. It is a song I recognize from Lifehouse called "Whatever it Takes."

My anger melts away. This is so unexpected and sweet, but at the same time, so very Edward.

We hug each other, slowly moving to the music exchanging I love yous, I'm sorrys and words of encouragement. I hold him even tighter than he is holding me. The song is so perfect for us. I'm pressed into his chest, kissing him. I love this broken man so much. With less than a month into our relationship, it seems we've already been through the gauntlet.

He leans down and kisses me gently, again on the lips. I respond shortly afterward, adding long denied passion to the kiss.

He doesn't really respond, however, he doesn't resist either. He's just letting me set the pace. There is hesitance, but I can tell the last of his guilt is fading away. He is giving in to allowing us to truly be a couple again. I touch every inch of his body that I can reach. Eventually I begin focusing my attention at the apex of his thighs with some light touches. His body's reactions aren't denied or concealed. When he puts my other hand on his chest, I notice the rapid pounding of his heart. His breath is also rapid, with grunts and moans; however he is letting me take the lead.

I take his hand to bring him into my bedroom. He offers no objection. His desire is obvious as he adjusts himself up and to the side in his jeans.

In the bedroom, he is an eager participant, but I have complete control over everything. It's an extraordinary rush. I set the pace. Even when I can tell he is thinking it isn't delicate enough, he doesn't object. He continuously tells me how much he loves me and respects me; it's all he can do to appease that part of himself that doesn't think he deserves this.

I can tell how difficult it is for him to hold out. I'm being selfish, but I need this just as much as he does. Every escalation of lust is designed and started by me. For once, I'm in complete control. I like it. My first climax comes quickly. It's short lasting but intense.

The second time I fall apart is drawn out, mind numbing and all consuming, and I beg Edward let go as well. His movements become strained and irregular, then he finally stills with only a whimper. All the while he looks at me, never closing his eyes, and whispers to me how much he loves me. Despite his subdued response, I know that this time we shared the same level of intensity during that moment.

He holds me in his arms for a long time; it is all I can do to convince him to let me go so I could use the bathroom.

When I slip back into bed, his arms wrap around me again, and it's not long before we both let sleep take us over.

Numerous times in the night, I awake feeling overheated and held down. Edward's body is continually draped over mine. He was always kind of a snuggler throughout the night, but now he seems desperate to hold onto me without a moment's interruption.

I roll over, breaking his hold to cool off, but it never lasts long. With only a brief pause in his snoring, he locates me in his sleep and latches on once again. There's no escape. Since he is like his own little space-heater, I move the heavy quilt off of me and resign myself to having Edward as my blanket. I fall back to sleep with a smile, because I realize I wouldn't change it for the world.

The next morning I awake to tiny kisses on my collarbone and along my neck. Chills are running down my spine. I realize Edward is awake in more ways than one. I think to myself that we are officially back on track. Thank goodness that drama is over.

We make love slowly, allowing each other to lose ourselves in the feeling of every slight change in movement. It lasts quite a while as our passion slowly and steadily rises higher and higher, to the point where it is almost frightening for me to let go. But dear lord, when I do, the intensity of my orgasm is ferocious and momentarily overwhelms every one of my senses to the point where I can't be sure if it is real or a dream. I don't think I remained entirely conscious the whole time. I think I may have zoned out completely for a few moments.

We lay in bed for quite a while after talking about how he will now be less likely to make decisions for us concerning our relationship without my input. He acknowledges that he tends to have this irrational machismo thing going on—well, that's what I call it anyway—and he will try to tone it down.

I remind him that I have a class at the hospital in a few hours, and he tells me that he's picking up Kate from school this afternoon and she will be with him for the next two days. After that he has a double shift at work. So for the next three nights, we will be sleeping alone.

We may be alone, but we're again confident that our togetherness is as strong as ever.

**A/N: Hopefully you all still won't be hating on B, this time for moving things along.**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: I wasn't even going to put up a big AN for this chapter because I know how they are hated. Bear with me on this one because…OMG I was nominated on TLS! If it moves you, go vote. For those who aren't familiar with that wondrous little place, www tehlomonadestand dot blogspot dot com.**

**Kitchmill is my beta and the one who helped me through all this and all this crazy fandom stuff, (I wouldn't even have an alias FB account if it wasn't for her) but don't blame her for my incessant fiddling. All these mistakes are mine.**

**Okay…here it is.**

CHAPTER 20

Edward

The days race past us. Thanksgiving, Jared's birthday and Christmas have come and gone. The difficult days have decreased, replaced by the more joyful celebrations of our first big holidays as a couple. Finally, we are thriving. My darkness has been overcome by the brilliant light that Bella brought into my life and I've never been happier.

We've come a long way. The first month of my relationship with Bella was difficult. No, it was more than difficult, it fucking sucked. The timing was awful, and in the past year I've acquired a lot of baggage that I have a hard time carrying. Any other couple would have never survived, but then again, we aren't just any couple. We've already been through our version of hell together and she's always protected me from the fire. Of course she did, she's my Bella.

Even therapy is going better lately. I still see Dr. Cope once a week, even though I think I should find a new doctor. If I didn't put my foot down, I'd be taking even more medication than the shit she already has me on. Sometimes, I think she doesn't know what else to do if I tell her I'm still having nightmares and panic attacks, so she just writes me another prescription.

On the bright side, I would like to think I'm a star pupil in anger management. I've been told that much of my anger lately has a lot to do with being angry at myself for my perception of how I let Harry and Jared down. Personally, I think it's all a load of horse shit, because when I wanted to maim that fucker that touched Bella, Harry and Jared were the farthest thing from my mind. But, I just go with what the therapists tell me to do to manage it, and it all works out in the end.

For Thanksgiving, we invited Bella's dad to my parents' house. It went perfectly. Charlie immediately took to the craziness that my family can dish out over a holiday and seemed to enjoy himself thoroughly. He especially had a good time telling his police chief stories that he watered down to a G rated version to Jane and Kate. They hung on his every word.

He really seemed to hit it off with Alice and Rosalie, as well as my mom. Since Uncle Alistair, Rosalie's dad who was Mom's brother, had been a police officer, but died in the line of duty in an accident during a car chase long ago, I think Charlie has a special affinity toward Rose.

Although I had to work the block of days around the Thanksgiving holiday, Charlie and Bella stayed at my parents' house for the long weekend along with Rose and Emmett. Apparently, a great time was had by all. I really wish I could have been there, but apparently they needed no help with football games by day and cool nights around a fire in the pit out on the deck with wine and endless conversation. Mom, Rosalie and Alice were Charlie's escorts as they showed him the town and where to take advantage of some Christmas shopping. I can't believe that even a guy like Charlie is defenseless over the ladies' propensity for shopping.

Charlie was working on Christmas, so we spent that holiday with my family. It was a great day, even though Bella decided that we couldn't buy our gifts for each other. They had to be homemade in some way. I'm sure it was her way of preventing me from buying her something expensive. It worked.

Honestly, I would like to get her a new car instead of that old truck that somehow still manages to start day in and day out.

It took me a whole month and a few how-to classes at a local craft shop that made me look like a real cupcake, but I made her a scrapbook. It started out with both our baby pictures as well as pictures of us growing up, and I finished it with us together. I left plenty of blank pages in the back to chronicle our days to come. I thanked her dad because without his help I wouldn't have been able to complete her end of it, so in a way it was from Charlie and me.

She knitted me a blanket. In the middle was a piece of fabric about twenty four inches square with my family's crest embroidered on it. I really have no idea when she found the time to do this. It was amazing and something I will treasure always.

She promised her dad that we would come up for New Year's Day, which we all had off together, then we could celebrate with him. Again, it was perfect.

I'm starting to detect a common theme. Perfect equals Bella. Everything she touches in my life turns out perfectly. What did I do to deserve this amazing woman?

January passes as each day I fall in love with my girl a little bit more. I know she is it for me. Never could I imagine I was capable of feeling this amount of love and admiration for her. She is everything I could ever want. I know I'm becoming a better person because of her.

I want to spend the rest of my life with Bella. I've known this from day one. Technically, I knew it before we were even a couple. Alice was right again. It will come as no surprise to anyone, yet I intend to keep the timing of my official plans to myself.

Today, I'm going to a local jewelry store to get an idea of what I would like to see on her finger for the rest of our lives.

They are very accommodating, especially after knowing the price range I have in mind. The traditional price tag of a month's salary in the job I am currently employed in would not cut it for what I want her to wear. I dipped into my savings rather than save a little here and there, because Bella is my future, and I've never been so certain of anyone in my whole life as I am of her. I choose to wait six months from when we started dating to do this, only because I don't want to seem too hasty. Or worse yet, inadvertently cause a rumor that our engagement was one of obligation rather than love.

Although it's an expensive ring, Bella deserves so much more than I could give her, yet she's not interested in material things. More than anyone I have ever met, she appreciates the happiness that no amount of money can buy. It's yet another reason to feel sure about my choice.

It's a two carat, clear, white diamond that is almost colorless in a platinum setting, with a smaller diamond on each side. It's oval and the setting is not too elevated. The three stones are said to represent our past, present and future. The ring pairs with a simpler platinum band with smaller inset diamonds that I will inscribe with the words "For Eternity," just like on her locket.

It won't be ready for the original day I wanted to give it to her, which was Valentine's Day.

Although it's so common and almost pedestrian to propose on or near February fourteenth, I'm nothing if not traditional. Unfortunately, the holiday has become quite a joke in reality. Commercialization has truly bastardized the original intention of the day. Due to the pressure of social conformity, a man feels compelled to buy a big red card, maybe a pair of boxer shorts adorned with cartoon characters and hearts to wear, or some cheap roses that begin to wilt within a day or two. Worse yet, he could buy some ridiculous stuffed giant pink gorilla holding a heart in order to declare his feelings, rather than acknowledge the real meaning of what love really is, and how it can truly change him.

As much as I dislike that pink gorilla, I'm still enough of a romantic to know how to show my feelings to the woman I love. Due to poor timing from the jeweler, this Valentine's Day will pass without my proposal, but I can't wait for long. Instead we celebrate in the typical fashion, flowers, card, dinner, present, sex, not necessarily in that order.

It's a few days after V-day and I called Charlie last night and told him that I'd like to speak with him today. I would have loved to do it over the phone to save me the ridiculous car ride up and back, but if I'm going to do this, I'm going to do it right.

He's going to be at the station today and told me to stop by.

I'm nervous, but on a mission. This is the next step that I need to take to officially dedicate my life to Bella.

I walk into the station intimidated, but committed to seeing this through, no matter what.

I'm directed down the hall by the officer at the front desk. As soon as I see Charlie, I could tell he knows why I'm paying him a visit and quickly gains the upper hand. He isn't going to make it easy for me. He tells me to sit while he stands over me. I feel as if I'm being interrogated.

"Did you feel like taking a long car ride just to see me, or are you here for a reason?"

"Yes, Sir. Uh, I mean, uh no, Sir. I mean, I drove here for a reason."

"Well you better not be here to let me know that you intend on asking Bella to marry you and you're asking for my blessing. You didn't drive out here to tell me that now, did you?" He paces back and forth, never taking his eyes from me.

Oh, fuck.

"Well, yes, Sir. Uh, that is the reason I came up here. I have a ring and I was going to ask her this weekend, Sir. I wanted you to know my intentions and I hoped that you would approve."

He stops and continues to stare down at me. His moustache lifts slightly on one side, as if he is sneering at me. "What if I said no, I don't approve? What would you do then?"

My voice cracks as I try to sound confident. "I…I would respectfully ask you why you didn't approve and if there was anything that I could do to reassure you that I would love and care for Bella for the rest of my life."

"What if I said that I have no reason, it's just that I don't want my daughter marrying you."

He is now looming over me and putting his hand on his gun in complete intimidation mode. It's working. I'm nervous as hell, but it doesn't change anything.

"Chief Swan, with all due respect, Sir, I would still ask Bella to be my wife. I love her and I know she loves me. I would tell her that I asked you for permission and that you didn't approve. If she still agreed to marry me, I would consider myself a lucky man. I would hope in time you would slowly understand and approve of our marriage.

"I know that Bella loves you as well, and I know that she would desperately want you in her life. Even as a married woman, I know she would still need her dad."

He smiles at me for the first time. I'm not sure if it's a good smile or a psycho smile, kinda like Hannibal Lecter. But then I remember, he's a police officer, he must have had to pass a pysch test at some point. I frown a moment later when I realize those tests suck. There are plenty of pyscho L.E.O.s running around.

"Good, Edward. Fight for what you love. Go home. Ask Bella to marry you. You have my blessing."

Oh, thank God, not a pyscho.

"Shit, really? Uh, great! Thank you, Sir. Thank you so much!" I frantically get up and almost make the mistake of hugging him again, but I catch myself and put out my hand to shake his. He grabs me on the shoulder and gives me a half hug and tells me to be good to Bella and he will still hunt me down if I hurt her.

I leave for the long ride home with a huge smile on my face thinking I could probably run home the nearly one hundred fifty miles with all the energy I feel.

I plan on a long weekend getaway at the end of February to the same resort we first allowed our feelings for each other to mature. I reserve the most expensive suite they have. If it is any indication, it should be exceptional because the suite we stayed in for Angela and Ben's wedding was really nice but still quite a few notches down the ladder of luxury.

We both have off the Friday, Saturday and Sunday coming up. There is no need to ask her to take any vacation days off from work. That would possibly make her wonder what I have planned. I simply ask her to keep her weekend open because I want to spend it away, together. She reminds me that the reception for her friend Carmen's civil union is Friday afternoon, and she would just like to stop in for a short time before I steal her away.

This will not interfere with my plans too significantly, as we are not able to check in until after three o'clock anyway, and the reception starts at one o'clock. Friday night was just a prep for Saturday anyway, which is the day I plan to propose.

I know her history with Carmen, and I have pointed out my insecurities to her about it. I was uncomfortable, but honest in my confession. Bella understood my feelings to some extent, but assured me that I need to have confidence in the love she feels for me. I do.

She informs me that Carmen told her that Jessica and Samantha cannot make it, and I feel a significant sense of relief.

I try to shake the dread I continue to feel over this party, but I'll accompany Bella while putting on a brave face. I can't help but feel uncomfortable as a man in this circumstance, almost like I stole Bella from their ranks. I know it seems ridiculous and paranoid, but a few of these women genuinely dislike and distrust the entire male gender. Some are like the stereotypical, ultra-militant feminists who believe all men are no better than wild animals. Bella has told me some surprising stories. I would place both Jessica and Samantha in that group, so I'm quite happy that neither of them will be in attendance.

We're packed and ready to go by mid-morning on Friday. I let her know everything that she needed to pack, including a bathing suit, overall casual clothing and one more formal, yet casual outfit.

I never told her our destination, I would like it to be a surprise.

We make our way to the wedding reception, which is located in a nice neighborhood, in the back yard of a very nice home. The weather is cool and cloudy but no rain is in the forecast, for which I am sure, everyone is grateful. It's a smaller, informal affair with around fifty people present. Apparently it is not a sit down dinner, just drinks and appetizers which works out fine for us, as I intended to take Bella to dinner tonight.

From what I can see, the yard is decorated with lots of white lights, white flowers and white decorations; it's tasteful, but not overdone.

Bella was fine—there was nothing off about the way she was acting until she walks up the driveway. She begins cursing under her breath and says she wants to leave before we even walk through the gate into the yard. That would be okay with me, but she's stopped by a woman who looks very pretty in an ivory colored dress. Apparently this is Carmen.

Bella introduces me to both Carmen and her partner, now wife, Irina. She simply introduces me as "Edward," not "my boyfriend, Edward," or my personal favorite "the love of my life, Edward." I don't think too much of it.

They both seem very nice and very much in love with each other. Bella, on the other hand, looks like she could vomit at any moment. She brings Carmen off to the side and speaks in a very hushed tone, something about a car in the driveway. I couldn't really hear what she was saying very well. Carmen simply nods her head, and with that, Bella looks worse.

Bella's entire demeanor changes and all her actions become stilted and anxious. I ask if she is okay and put my arm around her, but she brushes me off quickly with the excuse of having to use the ladies room. When she gets back, she seems quite cold and distant to me.

Again with each new guest I meet, I'm not introduced as her boyfriend, Edward, just, Edward. After the third time, it's becoming more obvious to me that she doesn't want anyone to know about us.

I try not to be paranoid, but she is treating me like a stranger. I don't know anyone here, so I'm reliant upon her to include me in conversations, but after the brief, impersonal introduction, it's as if I'm invisible. It's definitely unusual.

I stay calm and think about tomorrow. I guess most guys would be nervous about proposing, but right now, to me, the thought of it is keeping me calm.

Looking at my watch seems to be the only thing to do here. I just kind of follow Bella around like a stray puppy dog looking for some scraps while she pretends I don't exist. I have to wonder why she wanted to go to this thing anyhow. She looks very uncomfortable.

"Bella, what's wrong? You don't look too good."

"What? Oh, nothing. I'm just tired."

"Well, let's get you out of here. You can rest in the car. Irina and Carmen will understand."

"No. We just got here. I have to stay at least until they cut the cake. Then we'll go. I'm just not in the mood to talk right now, so…" She never finishes her sentence.

"All right. I'm going to get a drink. Would you like a glass of wine or something?" Maybe that will loosen her up. In fact I should get her two.

She agrees and I'm off to the bar.

I think I'll have a beer. I know I'm driving, but I'll only have one. Maybe it will be enough to take the edge off. Hopefully we'll be leaving soon.

After getting our drinks, I locate Bella across the yard. Another lady I've not yet met walks up to her and gives her a big hug. Her back is to me and I'm aware of her conversation well before she notices I'm there. I decide to slow down my pace and let them continue rather than interrupt.

"Samantha, how are you?"

Samantha...that's the one with Jessica. Bella mentioned a while ago, they became a couple again once Bella and Jessica's relationship was over.

Bella certainly doesn't seem to be too upset about seeing her here, but then again her back is to me so I can't really read her expression. Nevertheless, she's not throwing anything at her head, so I guess that's a good sign.

"Oh, I'm doing well. Jess and I are both still working for the town's high school and settling in together. I am glad to see you here. Did you come alone? I thought I saw you with a man a few minutes ago."

"Oh, yeah. That's Edward. He's used to be a patient of mine, fireman who got into a bad accident at work. Ever since I took care of him, he kind of devoted himself to me. I feel bad for him, so I try to be nice. I think he still holds out hope that I'm going to one day wake up want to live happily ever after with him. It's kinda sad really, but amusing enough, so I dragged him along, last minute."

Huh? What the hell is that supposed to mean?

Now I want to interrupt, but I'm too stunned. None of this makes sense. I need more information.

"Oh, I thought he was a new boyfriend or something."

Bella faces the sky as she starts to laugh loudly. "Oh, God no! Boyfriend...no, he's just a…no! No thanks! He is nice to look at for a guy and all, but, you know…next there will be rumors that I'm getting married or having a baby with him or something just as ridiculous! Please. But now that I have your ear, as a matter of fact, I was hoping you might know of a nice available lady who you could introduce me to."

My heart and what's left of any facial expression I have, falls to my feet.

In that split second, it all makes sense as a thousand thoughts of rejection flood my mind.

Is this how she feels? Is this true? But, I was going to ask her to marry me tomorrow. She's still interested in women, and I'm a pathetic leech that she feels sorry for.

My head is spinning, my heart is pounding in my chest painfully, it feels instantly hollowed out, empty, yet it's surging blood through my body that I can hear hammering through my ears. My stomach turns and my legs seem to feel numb from my feet upward.

I'm lost. My path was right in front of me, I've imagined my life playing out along the miles. Now it's nowhere to be found. I don't know where the hell I am. Only a minute ago I had everything a man could ask for, and now I'm standing here, moments later, wondering if any of it was ever real in the first place.

My reality has been ripped away and I feel instantly shattered inside.

Oh God, no…

Everything about this is wrong. How is this possible? I thought she loved me. She had me convinced that she loved me.

How could I have been so wrong?

The wine and the beer fall from my hands as my mouth opens in shock, yet I am unable to speak. Bella turns around and all the color leaves her face as she sees me standing there. Samantha awkwardly attempts to pick up the broken glassware while my whole world is crumbling in front of me.

I can't believe I was this stupid. I look at her face to see if maybe I heard the conversation incorrectly; it is my last vestige of hope amongst the ruin.

I only see regret. I close my mouth and calmly take out my wallet and throw two twenty dollar bills on the ground.

"For your taxi home." I turn around and leave.

She tries to follow me, calling my name quietly as not to make bigger scene, but I ignore her and walk much faster than she can.

Samantha is hot on her heels asking her what's going on and she has the nerve to say "nothing's wrong" and "be right back."

I get to my car long before she can because of her high heeled shoes. Luckily I'm not blocked in.

I leave her two suitcases on the grass and I'm gone.

My world is turned upside down. I don't know what is real. I only know that I have to leave there.

She is ashamed of me and certainly doesn't want her friends to know about us. In fact, to her, there isn't even an us, she just feels bad for me.

I can't believe I was actually going to ask her to be my wife.

My rational side kicks in and I wonder if it's at all possible to return the ring. Probably not. I call and cancel my reservation for the weekend. I won't need a romantic getaway after all.

Holy fuck, I guess this is it.

The other shoe just dropped. My relationship with Bella is over. I was a fool. Strangely enough, I feel nothing except shock and anxiety that is still sitting like a ton of lead in the pit of my stomach. At this moment, there is no pain, but I know that won't last long. Instead, there's only an all-consuming dread of knowing the pain headed my way will be catastrophic.

My phone rings. I look at the caller ID, but I don't have to. I know it's Bella. I turn it off. She will never get the opportunity to make excuses for what I just heard. She played me for a fool once; I won't allow it to happen again.

I can't go home. Surely she will attempt to find me there. I head out to the interstate where I know there a couple of hotels nearby. First I hit a liquor store to purchase something to calm my nerves. Damn, I wish I had those Xanax right about now. Nope, no Xanax, I didn't need them, I only needed Bella and I was calm. I only packed those other fucking psychiatric meds that I am so sick and tired of taking. All they do is remind me I'm a fucking basket case and I'm reliant upon some fucking pills to make me all better.

Mood elevators, my ass. They only make me worse. They are probably what made me delusional thinking that Bella fucking loved me in the first place. I don't care what that fucking shrink says, I'm done with them and I am done with her. I don't fucking need any of it.

I check into the hotel as a zombie, barely able to focus on what the receptionist is saying. She's far too cheery. Doesn't she know that my entire universe is falling apart? Everything I knew as truth has all been lies. I trusted Bella so openly with everything that I ever felt. She must have been laughing to herself the whole time, thinking what a fool I am.

Why? Why did she lead me on? What was the purpose? Just to test the water on the hetero side before going back to her other lifestyle?

Why would she crush me like that? Why didn't she stop it sooner?

Then a sickening thought hits me. I was reading her all wrong. I've seen only what I wanted to see.

No, that can't be right. She introduced me to her dad. She encouraged my affection. She told me she loved me in return.

I then figure out the answer. She felt sorry for me so she told me what she thought I wanted to hear. God damn her.

I open the bottle of cheap bourbon and swallow down a few mouthfuls. This is not smooth bourbon, it is harsh and cheap, but no matter how good the bourbon is, it's meant to be sipped, not choked down like Gatorade, so it is a bitch going down. Painful even. Good.

The burn in my throat momentarily distracts me from the agony in my chest as my heart is breaking into a million pieces.

What do I do next? What do I do without her?

She was such a huge part of my life. She saved me in so many ways. She was my everything. I loved her so goddamn much. I learned to share everything with her, there were no more walls. My body, my heart and my soul were all hers, there was never going to be another. I thought she felt the same way. I thought I was enough for her.

She seamlessly filled a void in my life that was left after I had to retire from the fire department. That job defined a part of me and I loved doing it. With Bella by my side, I closed that chapter in my life without much emotional distress. She guided me through it all. I settled in to my full time job on the helicopter without looking back, and I was never happier.

Now she's gone. Right now, I really have no desire to ever look her in the face again. I don't want to hear her explanation. It would probably kill me if I knew the truth. I get it, I thought what we had was special, but she was just biding her time with a guy until she could find someone else.

Holy fuck, how much more of a loser could I be? I'll bet she was more into my sister than she was me. How could I have been that wrong?

I can feel the effect of the bourbon as it courses through me. It seems to dull my senses a bit, but at the same time, I seem to feel angrier. I want to hurt someone. There is a bar and a restaurant attached to the hotel, and I consider going to the bar to pick a fight. It is too early, though. Maybe later I can watch some asshole bleed as my fists smash into his face. For now, I sit and drink and try to make sense of it all.

It doesn't take long to realize nothing is making sense. I have to stop thinking about it. It hurts too much. I'll give myself this weekend to feel sorry for myself. Then I have to move on. I can't let this pain take over. I have to keep her out of my life now. I have to reprioritize because she is no longer on my list. She's dead to me, and after this weekend, I can no longer afford to mourn.

I'll just tell everyone that I was a fool and it's over. I really have no desire to let everyone know what an idiot I am, so I have no intention of going into the details. Some people really get off on that shit, posting their tales of woe on Facebook, or telling everyone that will sit still long enough about how their significant other wronged them, and ultimately made them look like an ass. I suppose they think that people will feel sorry for them, but if I were them, I would just feel embarrassed and angry.

My personal shit will never find its way onto any social media, nor will I willingly relive it over and over again. It's done, it's over, move on. I will also tell them to no longer speak of her in my presence. I will remove myself from her life, and she will no longer be welcome in any part of mine.

One day at a time, I can do this.

This pain in my chest is intense and persistent. I don't like it. She has broken my heart, and at this moment, it's manifesting as a physical pain. For the second time in my life, a woman had done this to me. The first time I was just a boy, I didn't know any better and I was in love with getting laid more than anything else, but even that experience left its mark on me. Now I am a man that is shattering beyond repair. I never knew what it was like to truly love a woman until her, and all the while I was merely a joke. She never meant any of it.

I laugh to myself when I think of her father warning me to treat her right and never hurt her or I would be risking bodily harm.

Who went to bat for me like that? Why didn't anyone warn Bella not to hurt me?

Did they think I was unbreakable, or incapable of being hurt?

Did she fool everyone else as well into thinking she was some delicate little princess that was so perfect and good that only the flawed and damaged boy that hung on her every word was the one capable of hurting her?

Why didn't they see that I was the vulnerable one?

I was the one who would be gutted.

I want to scream at Alice. She encouraged this. I believed her. She let me down too.

Before I know it, more than a quarter of the bottle is gone and I am more than a bit wobbly. I go to take a piss and realize that my aim is really bad. I think about flushing the engagement ring that is still in my pocket, down the toilet. I don't, but at the same time it still equates to thousands of dollars wasted on what I thought was love.

What the hell was I thinking?

"FUCK! FUCK HER! I DON'T FUCKING NEED HER! I DON'T FUCKING NEED ANYONE! SHE CAN FUCKING DROP DEAD FOR ALL I CARE! I HOPE SHE IS HAVING A GOOD FUCKING TIME WITH THE GIRLS. KNOW WHAT, WHO FUCKING CARES?" I yell out to no one as I fall backward onto the bed, smashing my fists into the mattress behind me.

Yeah, maybe she has fucking moved on already. Hell, it's been a couple hours already—why the fuck not?

I decide to make myself crystal clear and turn my phone on long enough to send her a text making sure she knows it is over. I notice I have fifteen missed calls and fourteen voice messages as well as a bunch of texts. I delete them all.

Not interested. Go to hell.

I text her, _"In case you haven't figured it out by now, we're over. I'm not interested in anything you or anyone else has to say so stop trying to contact me. It's nothing but lies. I realize now how wrong I was about you. Keep my shit or burn it, I don't care. I'll drop any of your shit I find at my house at my sister's place only so I can get you the fuck out of my life forever. By the way, go fuck yourself, or for that matter, go fuck anyone else you want, you're finally free. We're done."_

Now she can go fuck one of the girls properly, without her thinking that she is cheating on me…not that it probably would have made a difference to her anyway.

I promptly turn off my phone and drink some more.

I close the curtains to the room and feel content to lie on the bed and stare at the ceiling. My eyes move without my permission, the bourbon is taking over, and my ability to focus is nonexistent.

I find it funny that no matter how hard I concentrate on trying to stop them, my eyes will not stay still. They lag off the side and jerk back to the center quickly and continuously as I try to look intently at one ceiling tile. I must be more drunk than I thought. I guess the bourbon is affecting my eye movement like love affected my better judgment. Either way, I just can't focus, regardless of how hard I try. Pretty ironic.

The numbness is creeping in. I just need a little more and the searing pain in my chest will be dulled as well.

Holy shit I drank more than half the bottle.

I fill the complimentary hotel glass with water, I drink it and refill it a couple times. No sense in torturing myself with a wicked hangover, too.

Fuck her. Bitch. She is nothing to me. Not anymore.

I wake up because I have to pee really badly. I guess I haven't done the job of getting properly drunk if I don't piss myself. Four o'clock in the morning, where did the time go?

Damn, I'm still pretty drunk, but not drunk enough. I take another mouthful of bourbon followed by a big glass of water. I make a promise to myself to try harder tomorrow. For now I go back to sleep for a little longer.

I've come to realize that the first two seconds just as I wake up, is my favorite part of the day. I linger between sleep and reality, and for just that brief time, there is no hurt. My mind doesn't register it yet. It takes a couple seconds to remember, and in that sliver of time between contentedness and hell, there is such a distinct razor's edge. Reality makes itself known rather viciously as I feel the intense pain slice right back into my flesh and down through my bones during that first moment of awareness.

Again, I go under, drowning in agony and despair.

I just want to spend the morning alone with my bottle. The pain wanes slightly until I think about what I had planned for today. Making love all day, dinner later and asking her to marry me tonight. That was before yesterday. Before my perfect little fantasy world starring her and me and two point four children and a white picket fence simply imploded. But it was merely an imagined little world, and now the cruel domain of reality is taking over my senses. She only felt sorry for me, I meant nothing to her, she doesn't love me and she doesn't want me.

I turn on my phone for shits and giggles and the missed calls and voicemail have more than doubled. Let's see—everyone seems to have called, even Mom and Dad from home and from both of their cell phones. I wonder why the bitch decided to tell anyone.

I see one from Tanya as well and I have to wonder if Kate is okay. Surely she doesn't know anything. I think I should return her phone call. I can't ignore my daughter. Kate is the only person on this planet I will ever have to answer to any more.

The phone rings only twice before Tanya picks up the phone and screeches my name. "EDWARD! WHERE ARE YOU?"

"Whaz wrong, Tanya? Az Kate alrye?"

"Kate's fine. we're worried sick! Where are you?"

"Kayez fine?"

"Yes! Damn it, Edward! Your words are all slurred. It's only ten a.m. Are you drunk already?"

I hear a commotion in the background and now my sister voice starts to yell at me through Tanya's phone.

"Edward, you come home right now! Do you hear me? Right now! This is bullshit!"

What. The. Fuck.

"Uh. No."

"What do you mean no? Where are you? Bella hasn't stopped crying all night. She says that you broke up with her over a misunderstanding and you wouldn't let her explain. Now you are pulling your 'I'm Edward, I'm the boss of you and everyone else and what I say goes, no questions asked' bullshit and won't listen to reason. For God's sake, Edward! Stop being such an asshole!"

"FUCK YOU ALICE! WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, SPEAKING TO ME LIKE THAT? YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING! SO BACK THE FUCK OFF!"

Not slurring my words now, am I?

I hang up and throw my phone across the room. It bounces off the climate control unit under the window and smashes into the desk in the corner. I don't fucking care.

It seems that Alice has chosen sides. She's decided I'm wrong.

She didn't even fucking talk to me, yet I'm the one who is wrong. She doesn't know shit about what happened.

I can't even imagine the bullshit that bitch is spewing right now. She lied to me and told me she loved me when my cock was inside her, so she certainly can lie to Alice.

Fuck them both. I don't need either of them.

My bottle will keep me warm tonight.

I look at my phone; the screen is cracked, but it will probably still ring. I smash it into the corner of the dresser and the screen splinters with dozens of shards marring the screen. I keep going until I can crack it in two and powdered glass and bits of phone guts fall to the carpet. Now it won't ring anymore. I'm done.

I'll get another phone tomorrow, with a different number. It will be only for Tanya so she can communicate with me about our daughter. But she has to understand that there will be no more talking about anything else between us, only Kate. She is the only topic I'm interested in hearing about coming out of her mouth.

I don't leave the room, I send housekeeping away. I never get a chance to pick a fight at the bar. It's just as well; I'd probably get arrested anyway.

Sunday morning comes way too early with a phone call from the front desk reminding me that check out is at eleven. It's eleven fifteen. FUCK.

I feel sick again.

I call down to the desk and tell them I am on my way, but I'm going to be late. They can charge me the extra fee if they need to.

I go into the bathroom and puke up bile and the water that I just drank, foolishly hoping it would stay down. I thought I puked enough for ten people last night.

My head feels as if it will explode, and I'm in the same clothes since I got here on Friday, only now they have vomit spattered across the front with more on the sleeves which is where I wiped my mouth last night.

I thought it would be a good idea to find out just how much bourbon I can hold down after not eating for almost two days. Now my body is still punishing me for that foolish decision.

I haven't showered and I'm a mess, but at the same time, I realize I haven't had any nightmares over the past two nights either. Usually, I can be sure I'll have one if I had a rough day, and I'd say I've had a couple of rough days, lately.

It must be the bourbon. Fuck those pills. Now I know I don't fucking need them anymore. Those nightmares are nothing a little drink or five before bed can't take care of.

I get ready to leave, but I dread going home. There, I'm a sitting duck. I don't want to deal with anyone. They have already made up their minds and they are siding with Bella. I just can't figure out what she has to gain from this. Why should she bother anymore? It's been six months, now we're over. She can move on to whatever else she had in mind. There's no reason for her to prolong this and cry on my sister's shoulder at what a bad boy I am, or how unfair I am being. It's probably because she wants to see my broken heart in person. I won't give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain.

I know—maybe she just wants to keep her apartment. That must be it. If Alice knew that she fucking gutted me, she would probably be asked to find another place to live.

I don't fucking care where the fuck she lives. She can move to Antarctica for all I care, just as long as I don't have to deal with her any more.

Fuck, Bella's gone. She's out of my life. I have to wonder just how much she was really in it to begin with. I had no idea I was just a game to her. I really thought she loved me. Why did she do this? Oh, God, this hurts so fucking much.

I can't cry. I can't cry. I can't cry. I have to check out now. I can't fucking cry.

I briefly look at my reflection in the full length mirror. Shit, my hair is worse than ever, clothes are wrinkled and filthy, I smell to high heaven and I have three days' worth of stubble which is no longer stubble at all. It's more like on the way to full out Grizzly Adams style facial hair. I swear it's a curse. I am glad the hair on every other part of my body doesn't grow as fast as the shit on my face, otherwise I would look like a freaking werewolf. As it is, I resemble a psycho—or someone who was just on a bender for the weekend…maybe a little of both. I guess that last assumption would be pretty accurate, actually.

I grab my bag and take the stairs down to the front desk. I couldn't risk being stuck in an elevator with someone. They would be thoroughly disgusted by the sight and smell of me. I still have some pride.

I drop the key card off at the desk and check out as quickly as possible. I can tell the bottle blonde, straight-laced girl at the counter is revolted by my presence, but all she learned about customer service prevents her from showing her displeasure, outright. I guess my money is just as good as anyone else's, regardless of how I look or smell.

I want to tell her I used to fuck little sluts like her for fun, before I'd find out that they all had boyfriends waiting at home for them, but I refrain. She probably wouldn't believe me. Fucking bitch.

They say men are the unfaithful ones; that's a load of shit. Women are just as bad. I never cheated, but while I was in college, I know of more than a few girls that I slept with and later found out were in a relationship at the time. Bella is no better, as far as I'm concerned. She may not have cheated, but she betrayed me just as much with her lies.

It was probably only a matter of time before it came to her cheating anyway. Hell, she may have done me a favor—now, she only broke my heart, if it turned out that later on, she couldn't resist and cheated on me with a woman, I don't think my ego would have survived the blow. In every way, she was the best I ever had. I was under the false impression that it was pretty good for her too. If I suddenly found out she needed to go elsewhere to be satisfied, then I would surely crack up for good.

Thankfully, there is no one casing my house when I get there. I strip and take a hot shower. My head is still killing me. The only way to fix that is to drink more. I know I have a ton of shit in the liquor cabinet.

I get out of the shower and put on a clean pair of boxers and pour myself a nice tall drink. Vodka, I needed to switch it up from bourbon a bit.

I gotta sit down and plan this through.

The bitch is gone. I have to get over it, no sense dwelling on it and trying to figure out why. It's done, it's over. I have to keep it simple or I'll lose my mind. I have to move on.

She's not the woman I thought she was and that is what seems to hurt the most. Fuck. I can't think about that shit, I just have to move on.

How do I move on?

I can't imagine even touching anyone else. Bella ruined me for everyone else. I don't think there is any other woman on Earth that I could ever imagine being with, romantically or otherwise, even if it is just a cheap fuck.

Honestly, I am completely done with women. I would much rather be alone for the rest of my life than get involved with another woman for a day, a year, or a lifetime. It's just not worth the potential for pain. I anticipate a life of loneliness and celibacy in front of me, but I will make it through. I know I'll be safer this way.

I will just go to work, come home, take care of my daughter and repeat—oh, and get drunk as often as possible. Other than Kate, I don't really need anyone else. If everyone else wants to pat Bella on the back so she could cry her fake tears, so be it. I don't need them.

No more Sunday dinner, no more phone calls, or visits, or holidays; nothing. I don't want anything from them.

I scour my house looking for any sign that the bitch was once here, and I gather up everything I find. I place all the shit in a couple of big black garbage bags for eventual deposit in my sister's lawn. I won't even go back toward the bitch's place. I have no intention of seeing her. The pathetic, spineless part of me thinks that if I do see her, I'll collapse like a house of cards and beg her to pretend to love me again, while I play stupid, like nothing ever happened. But the strong part of me reminds the pansy ass part that I don't need her.

The doorbell rings. FUCK! I should have put my car in the garage. God damn it. I've only been home for a couple hours.

It's Emmett. Shit, well, it could have been worse. I open the door just a crack and ask him what he wants. I'm not very cordial because I doubt he is here on a social visit.

"Hey, man. I just wanted to stop by and see how you were doing."

"I'm fine thanks. Just busy. Sorry, I really don't have time to bullshit today."

"I can help if you need a hand with anything."

"No thanks, man. I'm good. I'll talk to you later."

"Hey, listen, Edward, I'm here for you, all right? If you need anyone to talk to."

"Yeah, thanks, dude, but I'm good. No problem."

I close the door, relieved he didn't push the issue. About ten minutes later my house phone rings. It's my mom. I really don't want to talk to anyone right now. Why don't people respect that? It wouldn't be right to ignore my mom so I answer the phone.

"Hi, Mom."

Only, it's not Mom. "Edward, it's me. Please don't hang up. I'm sorry, I just want to talk to you. I didn't mean to yell. I was upset and worried." It's Alice again—now on Mom's phone.

"Look, Alice, I really have no interest in talking to you or anyone else except for my daughter. So just leave me alone and stop sending Emmett to my house."

"God, can't you see that we love you and care about you? We're worried about your and Bella's relationship. She says that you broke up with her. She's completely inconsolable."

"First of all, there is no longer a relationship between her and me. Yes, we broke up. It's over, I don't want to talk about it, and I have no interest in ever speaking with her or you about this ever again. So you can stop pissing me off about it. If you want to let Bella cry her fake tears on your shoulder, that's your decision. Just make sure you know, if that's your choice, I want nothing to do with it, OR YOU, ever again."

"What? Edward? Are you asking me to choose between my brother and my best friend?"

"I don't care what you call it. You can't have it both ways. Choose her, it doesn't matter to me. You both can go fuck off."

"Edward, please don't do this!"

She is turning on her tears now. This is bullshit.

"I'm not doing anything. Everything has been done already. I'm just along for the ride. I didn't choose this, your best friend did."

"No, no, she doesn't want this. Just talk to her. She knows she hurt you and that she was wrong. Please talk to her. She's right here."

"What? Fuck no. DO NOT PUT HER ON THE PHONE! I have nothing to say to her or you for that matter. I gotta go. Don't bother calling back either."

I hang up with my heart racing like a hummingbird. I disconnect all the landline phones in my house. Damn, I have to change my number. Just before I get to the last phone to disconnect it from the wall, it starts to ring. God Damn It! Leave me the fuck alone already. I disconnect it. I just want to have another drink.

Twenty minutes into my bottle, my door bell rings again. What the fuck is going on? Jesus Christ, can't people just leave me alone? This time, at least I have pants on when I answer it, still no shirt though, and I'm half in the bag, and oh, I still haven't shaved. Grizzly Adams looking motherfucker.

Oh, fuck no. It's Alice, with the alligator tears bitch in tow.

"Go away, Alice. I have nothing to say, so leave me the fuck alone." I yell it through the door, but my sister being my sister, she doesn't take no for an answer. She uses her key and walks in. I gotta fucking change my locks, too. God damn it, now I am pissed. How dare she back me into a corner!

"Get the fuck out of my house, Alice. Take your best friend with you."

"Edward, please don't be mean. This is crazy and you're being unreasonable. You both need to sit down and work..."

I don't let her finish her statement before I feel my temper spike really quickly and I snap. I walk over to her, now standing in the middle of my living room like she owns the place, and stand towering over her while I scream my words to make sure she hears me loud and clear. "HOW DARE YOU COME INTO MY FUCKING HOUSE UNWELCOME AND TELL ME WHAT I NEED TO DO! GET! THE FUCK! OUT!"

"No, Edward, I will not. You don't scare me. I know how much you love Bella. What you're doing now is unnecessary, please just..."

All rational thought has left my consciousness as Alice is standing in front of me pointing her fucking fingers in my fucking chest while that bitch is in my house whimpering and wiping at her fake tears, pretending to be upset. Alice doesn't get a chance to finish her sentence before I take the coffee table and flip it over, snatching my almost empty bottle of vodka first and throwing it across the room where it smashes against the far wall. I grab my sister by the arm roughly, holding her up on her tip toes, and in no uncertain terms tell her to get out of my house. I raise my other hand menacingly.

"I SWEAR TO CHRIST, ALICE, I WILL PHYSICALLY THROW YOU THE FUCK OUT IF YOU DON'T LEAVE NOW!"

Bella is openly sobbing, repeating "Please, Edward, no" over and over. I think I am in the middle of the twilight zone, or a maybe bad episode of the show "Cops." I roar at her, "YOU! YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP! YOU DON'T GET TO CRY, YOU FUCKING, LYING WHORE!"

"Stop, please, you're hurting me," Alice says in a small voice. All the confidence she possessed moments ago is now nowhere to be found, along with all the anger I felt. It has suddenly drained away as I notice what I'm doing.

I had her raised on her tiptoes by her arm shaking her. I drop her abruptly, and she holds her arm close to her body. She raises her sleeve to look, and with her I notice the angry red marks on her arm from where I grabbed her. FUCK!

"We'll go...okay? We'll go..." my sister says to me while backing away, afraid to turn her back to me, while rubbing her arm.

Shit, I grabbed her too roughly. I didn't realize how tightly I was clenching my hand, holding her when I was yelling. Her arm is so small my hand easily encircled it using just about all my strength to lift her up and shake her. I can't believe I was so rough with her. I didn't want to hurt her; I just needed her to stop.

I sit on my couch with my elbows on my knees and put my head down into my hands. It feels as if it could explode with regret. They need to leave. Fuck! I didn't mean to hurt her.

I hear the door click and the sobbing is gone. A car leaves the driveway and the house is quiet once again.

I grab a beer out of the fridge and sit back down on my couch. So many words, images and emotions are flashing through my mind and I hate it. I have to eliminate all this confusion, all this thinking. I need to rest my mind and feel nothing for just a little while.

I am on my third beer when I hear another car pull into my driveway.

Why? Why won't anyone leave me the fuck alone?

I don't get a knock. Instead, the key goes into my lock, and as I stand up and turn around Jasper and Emmett come into my house, just like everyone else, uninvited. Except, this time, I don't think they are here to talk.

Anxiety instantly peaks amidst my otherwise dulled, alcohol soaked senses.

Jasper walks toward me and punches me square in the jaw before I even get a chance to put my hands up to defend myself.

Emmett grabs my arms from behind and locks his hands around my neck so I can't move. I don't really try. I fucked up. I deserve this. I didn't mean to hurt her. I was stupid and drunk and she was really pissing me off. It's no excuse for putting my hands on her.

What the fuck have I done?

Jasper punches me once more the mouth, twice in the kidneys and then kicks me in the balls. Emmett drops me to the ground.

It takes about two seconds for the pain to crest. Those two seconds are cruel and unforgiving. They seem to drag on forever, taunting me as my mind races, knowing there is no stopping the pain that is to come. It's so similar to the delay in the pain I felt when I heard those words fall from that bitch's lips. Yet those painless seconds don't last long enough, there's not even enough time for me to take a deep breath before it cripples me in agony. I couldn't move in this moment if my life depended on it.

I see white spots whether my eyes are open or closed. The searing pain is blistering its way upward and I think I'm going to die from the intensity. Yet it is so much more tolerable than the pain I feel from her betrayal.

Fuck, I'm going to be sick.

I proceed to vomit all over myself and my floor. The stench of bile and liquor surrounds me making it even harder to breathe.

Jasper finally speaks, but I can barely concentrate on his voice through the pain. "You never, EVER put your hands on a woman! I don't care what the fuck kind of shit you're dealing with, there is no excuse! Do you understand me?"

I just nod my head. I try to tell him I am sorry, but before I can form the words, both of them are gone. I hear the car leaving the driveway as I am lying with my head in a puddle of vomit on my own floor.

I'm not sure how long I'm lying there, but eventually the pain subsides to the point that I can think and move again. I get up and grab a towel from the bathroom to clean up myself and my floor.

I move slowly and deliberately through the ache that is still raw and clawing its way through my body.

I really fucked up.

I drink the rest of the beer in my fridge. It doesn't really help the pain, any of it, but I do it anyway. It's only five p.m. on a Sunday, but I drag myself to my bedroom. I just want to go to sleep. I have to work tomorrow and I might as well sleep. I finally take a Xanax; in fact, I take two. Between the beer and the medication, it doesn't take long before everything fades to black.

**A/N Part II. I guess I should have told you guys to vote BEFORE reading this chapter, huh? Don't hate me or B (too much). I warned y'all, I like angst. Buckle up. I'll be hiding.**


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: Whoa. That was quite an arse ripping I got from you guys. I'd like the chance to defend myself just a little bit here because I know I lost some readers for the wrong reason. If you can't take the angst , okay, I can understand. This story isn't going to be a good fit for you, and I'm sorry to see you go. BUT PLEASE, you have to know, I DO NOT in any way, shape or form, hate Edward. I wrote him this way for a reason. I wrote a lot of things for a reason and there are many details in the story that will become important later on. I LOVE EDWARD! I cannot stress that enough. I fully expected having to defend B from the angry hordes—not myself as and E hater. I'm floored. Like I've told some of you, I love E, I just love him really broken and beaten as the underdog, so I can fix him and write him as a winner in the end. I WANT to hurt your heart, I WANT to make you cry. I DON'T WANT you guys to do that to me… BTW, I'm not a B hater either.**

**You may not be able to forgive her, but let's hear what she has to say about this…**

**P.S. Don't blame my beta kitchmill for any errors, she is awesome, I fiddle and I'm anti-awesome.**

CHAPTER 21

Bella

I feel sick as soon as the words leave my mouth. The most repulsive abomination of the truth spills from my lips easily. How does this lie seem flow without my conscience marking it as an obvious fallacy?

I hear glasses fall onto each other and break. NO! He's only been gone a minute, he shouldn't be back so soon!

I've never experienced the emotion I'm feeling in that very second, before. I know what just happened. In the span of an instant, I've destroyed the only man I will ever love with a lie. My world in about to be incinerated before me, and I deserve to burn along with it.

I turn around and his face loses color. His eyes betray his emotions. He is crushed, angry, terrified. Like I'm dying, my life is flashing before my eyes. Too many emotions hit me all at once and I'm rendered nearly immobile from the grief.

He throws money at me for a taxi and if I had any doubt a moment ago, now I know this is as bad as it could get.

No, no, no, no, no! I somehow find the ability to move and speak, but no words have ever been created to explain how sorry I am, to undo the damage I've created with so little effort. I spoke the worst words possible, under the worst situation and he heard them, thinking they are true.

"Edward, wait, please! Oh, God, please don't go!"

Samantha is following me. I need her to go away. I try to tell her everything is fine and to go back to the party, but of course, she doesn't listen. His car is already halfway down the street before I get out to the driveway. The tears leave my eyes whether I want them to or not.

Oh, GOD, NO! Please, no...

I fall to my knees in the grass sobbing. I don't want to make a scene, but now I have the potential of becoming the main attraction as I fall apart. My only saving grace is that almost all the guests are in the backyard and cannot see my growing hysteria. I don't want to ruin Carmen and Irina's day, so I try to compose myself, but it's no use.

Samantha kneels next to me. She puts her arm around me and I lose myself in my tears. I confess that Edward is more to me than just a friend, he is my boyfriend and he means the world to me.

Now he's gone and I have no idea how to fix this.

I confess that everything I told her was lies so she wouldn't tell Jessica about Edward and I. I tell her that I was afraid because I don't want Jessica to jeopardize my job by making up lies to tell my boss again.

Samantha takes my hands and assists me to stand. She walks me over to a bench out of the way from most of the other guests where we can continue our conversation.

"Honestly, it doesn't matter anymore. Nothing matters now. Tell Jess whatever you want. Tell her that I hate her and that I wish that she and I were never together. I hate that even after all this time, she still has something to hang over my head. It's all the truth. Oh, God, I didn't mean to hurt him!"

"Just give him some time to cool off, then talk to him. He'll understand. You hurt him by lying to me Bella, I'm sure what you said couldn't be farther from the truth. Am I right? Do you love him?"

I look at her and the sorrow I feel amplifies because I treated Edward so horribly that she has to ask me this question. Oh God, I've hurt him. How could I have said this? I hate to lie, and for the first time ever, it seems I've done so convincingly. I put myself before him. Worse, I put my job before him. How could I have risked my relationship over my job? Nothing matters without Edward. Nothing.

"I've never knew what love was until I met him. I love him beyond anything I believed I was capable of, Samantha. Please, go back and tell Jessica everything I said."

"Bella, don't worry at all about Jess. I don't think she would want to be spiteful like that. She wouldn't make up lies to be vindictive."

"Sam, she's done it in the past. She would do it again if she could. The only difference is, now I don't even care. Oh, God, what have I done? I love him so much. And now he thinks it was all a lie."

"What did she do?"

"When Jessica and I spilt, Sioban, my boss, who you know is Jessica's cousin, knew about it almost instantly. I try to keep my personal life separate from work, but she called me into her office the next day to ask me how things were going, and she was sorry that things didn't work out for Jess and me. I didn't tell a soul at work. The only way that could have happened was through Jessica. Sioban asked my friend Angela, who is also a nurse, was asked to keep an eye on me outside of work whenever she could because Sioban was worried about me and concerned about my 'emotional wellbeing.' Angela eventually told me she thinks Sioban was concerned that there was a potential that I was having an issue with substance abuse. Of course, she could never directly tell that to Angela, but Angela said that was the impression she got and the one Sioban wanted to get across to her. My narcotic administration records were scrutinized and I know I was under the microscope for months. Drug abuse, in some cases, even if it's only speculation, is the kiss of death for anyone with a nursing career."

"I didn't know, Bella. I'm sorry. I'll make sure nothing like that ever happens again. It's not fair, and you shouldn't have to worry about that."

I wipe my eyes with the tissue that Sam hands me, for the moment my tears have slowed. "Thank you, Sam, but honestly the last thing I care about now is my career. It brought me to him, and for that I'll always be grateful. I used to think that my career was the most important thing in my life and it always would be. I never realized how wrong I could be. It is meaningless without him, everything is. I just want to wake up and realize this is all a bad dream. I don't think that is going to happen. Oh God, what am I going to do?"

I start to panic again, but Sam grabs me by the shoulder, shaking me.

"You are going to keep it together and you are going to talk to him. Just give him some time. Don't give up. I'm thinking he'll push you away, but stand your ground. Think about who you were together just this morning. Nothing has changed from that except an epic misunderstanding. He still loves you. But now, he's hurt and angry. When that happens, some people act similar to a wounded animal. They can turn on you and be very unpredictable. Just give him a little slack right now."

"All right, yeah." As easy as she makes it seem, I feel the tears reappear on my cheeks and the pain in my heart that hasn't subsided. I worry that in the future, they will be the only thing that I'll have left to assure me that I'm still alive.

"Come on, let me take you home."

In the car, I call Alice and ask if she can meet me at my apartment. She's very confused. I promise to explain everything to her once I get home.

Alice is at my door when I pull up. I thank Samantha for everything and she tells me that she will fix what she can on her end and wishes me good luck with the rest.

"Why are you here? Why aren't you on your trip? Where's Edward?"

"Alice, can we at least go inside first?"

I open the door, dragging my two bags along and sit on my couch. I quickly realize that despite the bad experiences I've had with relationships in the past, I've never, ever felt this broken before. The pain is incapacitating, and the work I must do to correct my mistake looms over me like a mountain that my all but paralyzed body must move.

I try to stay calm, but the tears begin to stream down my face and Alice goes into all out hyper mode.

"Something is wrong, oh no. What did he do? I swear to God..."

"Alice, please stop. He didn't do anything wrong. It was me." I replay the events of the afternoon in great detail, I tell her how everything was fine until I saw Samantha's car, then how distant I was and how I blew him off to pretend that he was merely an acquaintance with each introduction.

"I didn't want Sam to see us but she did. I needed to find a way to get him off to the side and explain what was going on, but I didn't get a chance. Alice, I crushed him all to prevent any problems at work. I don't deserve…"

She cuts me off. "Bella, just stop. I just need to catch my breath here."

I continue to cry softly as she looks at me carefully, not speaking for a moment. When she begins again, her words are soft; there is no anger in her voice. I don't deserve her leniency.

"I know that you're hurting right now and I'm sorry, but you deserve every bit of that pain. I asked you not to hurt him. You promised me it wouldn't be possible. You broke that promise and I'm disappointed. You know how much he loves you and I know you love him, but you made a choice. I know if you had the opportunity to do it over, you would chose differently."

She takes a deep breath and continues, "Bella, I'm going to make a point to forgive you right now because we don't have time to waste. So we're going to table this discussion for another day when I can properly give you a piece of my mind. For now, I know my brother and he needs a strong hand to redirect him to listen to reason."

Before she says another word she is on the phone leaving a message on Edward's voicemail. She hangs up and does it over and over again. She proceeds to call Rose who tells her she is on her way over. In the meantime, Alice starts with the text messages.

Once Rose arrives, the girls help to calm me down. They basically tell me to give him some time and then he will be more receptive, that his running away is just a knee-jerk reaction. It is basically the same advice that Sam gave me. But they didn't see his eyes when I watched as his heart broke before me.

Rose also leaves Edward some voicemails and texts but she is not as nice as Alice. I finally call him as well. From all the voicemail the just left, they told me that I had about thirty seconds to talk. I think long and hard about what I want to say.

"Edward, please listen. This is all just a horrible misunderstanding. I know you can't imagine how it can be true, but if you give me a chance to explain you may not be as angry. You know Jess and my boss are cousins. When Jess and I broke up, I think she told my boss some pretty horrible lies about me. When I saw Samantha, I was afraid that Jess would find out we are together and was worried about the damage she could do to my reputation at work. It's a horrible reason, but that's why I lied. There can never be a good enough reason to hurt you like that but you have to know, everything I said to Sam was a lie. I'm so sorry, I panicked. Please forgive me. I love you so much, I need you, please."

Against my wishes, Alice calls her mom and dad and lets them know what happened. I feel humiliated and deservedly so.

I cry all night, regretting my every word and action from this afternoon. I can't seem to get a grip on myself. I have a feeling that this is going to be more than difficult knowing how determined Edward can be.

Alice comes up with a game plan to get Edward back and it will go into effect tomorrow. She has everything sorted out and a job for everyone. Alice is in full coordination mode. Rose is in charge of scouting Edward's house, so we will know when he gets home. Emmett has also left him voicemails and texts after Rose let him know what had happened.

Both Rose and Alice are going to stay with me all night, and for this I'm so grateful. I couldn't fathom how difficult it would be if I were alone. They try to get me to relax. We have some wine and Alice runs me a bubble bath to soak in for a while with yet another glass of wine. They order takeout, however, I have no appetite at all. I just hope the alcohol will allow me to sleep through the night. Waking up in the middle of the night with a broken heart is always the loneliest and most difficult time of all. You feel so truly alone.

After each of their initial admonishments, Rose and Alice are not judging me, just helping me get through each hour as it comes. I can't help but think that there is no one there right now for Edward. He is alone and hurting just as much as I am, even more so, because he's an innocent victim. How can he do this alone? I wish he would just talk to me. He may not forgive me, but at least he will understand a little bit more of why this happened. Instead, he feels the right thing to do is to shut me down completely. I can't imagine what is going through his mind right now. I don't even know where he could have gone.

My tears fall and mix with the hot soapy bath water. Between the hot water and the wine, I can start to feel slightly more relaxed. Maybe I will be able to fall asleep tonight after all.

My phone buzzes and my heart starts racing when I see it is a text message from Edward. Opening it immediately would not be fast enough, but I stop momentarily and a wave of fear washes over me. The message could make me feel hopeful, or infinitely worse than the misery I'm wallowing in now. I'm torn, my insides are twisting and I feel nauseated.

I open his message_. _

_In case you haven't figured it out by now, we're over. I'm not interested in anything you or anyone else has to say, so stop trying to contact me. It's nothing but lies. I realize now how wrong I was about you. Keep my shit or burn it, I don't care. I'll drop any of your shit I find at my house off at my sister's place only so I can get you the fuck out of my life forever. By the way, go fuck yourself, or for that matter, go fuck anyone else you want, you're finally free. We're done._

I didn't know what it would say, but this is so final. So cruel. It's as if his decision is made and it is irreversible, regardless of anything I have to say.

I have no right, but now, I'm angry as well. He exasperates me because of his need to control everything, to dominate every decision without considering all the facts. I know he is hurt and is going into some sort of protection mode, but how could he think that I lied to him? Does he actually think that our relationship was some elaborate hoax just to hurt him? That every time I told him I loved him that it wasn't true? How could all the time we have spent together be instantaneously erased with one mistake? How could he believe that everything else that had ever happened between us was a lie and what I told Samantha was the truth about how I felt? How could he just leave like that, without wanting an explanation?

Anger and grief were competing for each tear, and there were a lot to go around.

Alice comes in to check on me only to find me much worse off than when she last left.

It's going to be a long night.

**FL&SC**

It's after nine a.m. when my eyes open to the morning. It was almost four o'clock before I could close them, after a thousand tears had fallen. I'm exhausted; my eyes are heavy and still feel swollen. There are a lot of voices beyond my bedroom door, more than just Alice and Rose. Still, the only voice that I want to hear is absent. My world has crumbled, my heart is in pieces and I have no one to blame but myself.

I gain some composure after a while, just lying in my bed. I finally rise when I realize the voices are not going away. I try to smooth down my hair as best as possible after hours of tossing and turning. A minute or two later I give up, and I give in to my curiosity as to who is inhabiting my kitchen. I walk into a bustling morning of Alice making breakfast and coffee for Rose, Emmett, Esme, Tanya and even Carlisle. I don't think I have enough food in my house to feed Emmett, let alone anyone else, but apparently Alice made a trip to the supermarket earlier as well.

Esme sees me first and she looks as sad as I do. She pulls me into a firm hug, then places her hands on both sides of my face and tells me that she knows Edward still loves me and that he will come around. I wish I shared her optimism. Emmett and Carlisle follow suit with hugs and words of reassurance. Tanya remains standoffish but voices her condolences.

Alice tells me that Jasper is with Kate and Jane at her house. He is already assigned to Mr. Mom duty for Jane all weekend, so one more kid only makes his life easier as they will keep each other occupied. She has rallied the troops and is cooking breakfast because an army doesn't fight as well on an empty stomach.

I'm so embarrassed, and I know that no one here envisioned their Saturday morning to be spent dealing with my problems. At the same time, I'm in awe of how tight knit this family really is, they may be here with me, but I know they are here for Edward as well. I feel honored that they want Edward and I to stay together and are here to do what they can for us. But deep in my gut, I fear that soon there is a good possibility that I will no longer be a functional part of this group that I have grown so affectionate of. They have accepted me as a part of their family, but I wouldn't be here for the past year and a half if it weren't for Edward, and I can't remain this close without him.

I'm grateful for everyone's assistance, but again I realize Edward is dealing with this alone. It isn't fair. I don't deserve this support while he has none. However, I know him too well; he would rather be a martyr than to talk to anyone and admit any self-perceived weakness. The last person he would talk to about this is me. I can't imagine how much he despises me now, somehow convincing himself that my love for him was all a fraud.

Alice tells me that Tanya left him a text to call her about a half hour ago, so if he turns on his phone and gets the text it will be an opportunity to talk some sense to him. If he contacts anyone, it will be Tanya because of Kate. Alice said it is like fishing; he will take the bait provided his phone is still in one piece.

Sure enough, Alice's plan works and almost thirty minutes later her phone is ringing.

"EDWARD! WHERE ARE YOU?" Tanya yells into the phone. Oh shit, no! This is not the way to speak to him now.

"Please don't yell at him, Tanya," I plead in a low voice.

From Tanya's response, he asked about Kate just like Alice suspected.

Unfortunately, Tanya then asks him in an accusatory tone if he's been drinking.

"NO! Please, Tanya. Stop making him out to be a bad guy. He won't respond like this." I'm begging her.

Alice takes the phone from Tanya's hand; hopefully she will undo any damage that Tanya's accusation caused.

My hopes are shattered when she begins speaking.

"ALICE!" I am shaking my head frantically at her and she is not acknowledging me at all. She covers the mouthpiece and whispers "Don't worry." Her words to him are soft, there is no yelling, but the acidity of the message will do even more damage. Why is it that I am the only one who knows how to deal with Edward? They are only making things worse.

"What do you mean no? Where are you? Bella hasn't stopped crying all night, she told me everything that happened. You broke up with her over a misunderstanding and you wouldn't let her explain. Now you are pulling your 'I-am-Edward-and-I-am-the-boss-of-you-and-everyone -else' bullshit and won't listen to reason. For God sake Edward, stop being such an asshole."

That's it. It's over. Edward has shut down and any communication with him is now lost. Tough love will not work in this situation. They don't seem to realize he hasn't done anything wrong. I caused this problem, not him.

"FUCK YOU ALICE! WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE SPEAKING TO ME LIKE THAT? YOU DON"T KNOW ANYTHING! SO BACK THE FUCK OFF!"

I can hear him yelling through the phone. I know that when he starts dropping f-bombs all over the place, his anger is speaking, and any rationality he was capable of is long gone. Alice continues to reprimand him for another few seconds before realizing that Edward hung up on her.

"I'm sorry, Bella. My brother is being an asshole."

"Alice, no. Stop, please. He's not. He's hurt and alone, I have everyone here supporting me and Edward is somewhere getting drunk trying to deal with this by himself. He needs you more than I do. Don't you see that? He didn't do anything wrong and everyone is yelling at him for trying to deal with the way he's feeling."

Esme steps in. "Alice, Bella is right. Your brother's coping mechanisms aren't the best or the healthiest, but you should know that yelling at him won't snap him out of it. My heart breaks for him right now because I'm sure he feels he just lost, not only the love of his life, but his sister as well. My son's hurt, and yelling at him won't heal him. It'll only drive him farther away."

"He needs a wakeup call, Mom. He's being a bully. He needs to snap out of it."

Carlisle speaks up. "Your brother's having issues with control, especially lately, but just think about all the major life changes that have been thrown at him after the fire that he's been helpless to change. After all that's happened, he's come back a different person. But it's amazing that he's recovered as well emotionally and I think, in no small part, for that, we have Bella to thank. That is why we're here for you, Bella. Edward has changed since the accident. Now, you seem to know how to get through to him better than we do. I'm afraid of the consequences that could arise because of this problem. Alice, if you're going to get involved with this issue, it has to be done with sensitivity. Bella understands this, and if you want to help, you should understand it, as well."

Alice seems to lightly brush off her dad's suggestion, too. It seems that Edward isn't the only stubborn one.

After breakfast, Alice thanks Tanya for her help and in turn Tanya assures us that if she hears anything else she will let us know. Kate will be spending the night with Jasper, Alice and Jane.

We sit and talk with Emmett, Rose, Esme and Carlisle. The main topic of conversation is Edward and how best to handle this situation. Carlisle and Emmett think that we should just lay back and let him come to me. I don't think his pride would ever allow that to happen.

I explain to them if I had the choice between my job and Edward, I would chose Edward without a moment's hesitation. I tell Esme and Carlisle everything. I don't know how much they knew about my past, but I lay it out on the table for everyone and they were very understanding. I tell them that I love my job, but I love Edward so much more. In retrospect, I know I was stupid and avoiding the bigger problem of Jessica by lying to Samantha. I would mop floors for a living if I had to, as long as I had him by my side.

Esme and Carlisle leave but invite everyone to their home for dinner. It just feels like the right thing to do. We all agree. I don't think I could eat much, but I decide to go as well. It is the only feeling of comfort I have left. Everyone was rallying behind not necessarily me, but behind mine and Edward's relationship. They don't want to see us apart either, and for that I am truly grateful.

The rest of Saturday drags on without any other word from Edward. He's still not home. I didn't think he would be. If I know him at all, he will be somewhere trying to drink his problems away. I just hope it's somewhere safe where he can't get hurt or into any trouble. I wish he would find it in his heart to talk to someone. If so, he would realize how much everyone loves him and he doesn't have to feel alone. I wish this as I'm surrounded by the love and support of his family; it just doesn't seem fair that I'm here and he's not. I should be the one alone and cast out.

**FL&SC**

It isn't until Sunday afternoon that Emmett tells Alice that Edward's car is in his driveway. He says he is going to just check in on him and see if he is okay.

When he calls back, he tells Alice that Edward didn't seem too drunk, maybe a little, but he was not in the mood to talk. He suggests giving him more time. She thanks him for the information and, against Emmet's advice, tells me to brush my hair because we are going to see Edward.

Never have I ever felt more nervous in all my life. Not when I took my final nursing exam. Not even after my first code when a little old man I was caring for died on me, somewhat unexpectedly, shortly after I got the job in the ICU. The words "we are going to see Edward" are striking a primal fear within me.

I try to dissect why I'm feeling this way and realize that more than anything else in the world, I want this meeting to go well, but I don't have much faith that it will.

He's still the same Edward he was on Thursday, before all this mess happened. The same man that I wanted to race home from work to see, or jump into his arms when he got home, then fall asleep with every night after we have made love in ways the likes of which I never knew existed. This is the very man who explained to me in extensive detail how much he loved me, then proceeded to show me the same.

He would do the sweetest little things without expecting recognition. One night I casually mentioned that I was so excited to get to his house to see him after two days apart, but looked at the gas gauge to find my tank was empty. I couldn't wait, so I skipped going to get fuel because I missed him too much. So what did he do? He woke up earlier than usual to go to work the next morning so he could take my car to the station to fill the tank before he left for work. I have a couple dozen little stories like that one. Things he would do for me that might have even gone unrecognized because he wouldn't make mention of them, because he never wanted or expected anything in return. He did these little things just because he loved me and he wanted to take care of me.

He was so protective and such a gentleman, opening my doors, carrying my bags, buying me flowers and doting on me whenever he could. While some women would despise being treated like a lady, I loved it, even though it did take a little getting used to at first.

No, he isn't perfect, but he doesn't have to be; no one is. All I know is that he is perfect for me, and now he's gone. I've destroyed his love for me.

I don't recognize this new part of him. Now he's angry, distant and cold. I did that to him. I want to take away his pain. I want to explain to the best of my ability why this happened. I want to tell him that it doesn't matter anymore, I don't care what Jess says about me, I could lose my job, and it wouldn't matter. All that matters to me is him. I love him so much, and I never lied to him. I don't want him to hurt because of me.

I feel as though I could vomit as we pulled into his driveway.

"Trust me, Bella. Yes, my dad is right about Edward being different after the fire, but I know how to get through to my brother. Sometimes he needs a dose of his own harsh medicine. He still loves you, he needs to be reminded of that. We need to break through his anger, not just sit around hoping he'll have a change of heart. The sooner we confront him, the better."

I can't stop my hands from shaking. Alice takes a hold of them and tells me to stay strong, that everything will work out.

Well everything did not work out. The rage I saw on Edward's face frightened me. I had no idea he would grab Alice and threaten her like that.

I can't stop crying, this is so much worse than I could ever imagine.

When we get back to Alice's house, Jasper intently interrogates Alice, accidently noticing the marks on her arm which are now distinctly bruised. She tries to hide them, but it's no use. He inspects them further while Alice assures him that she's fine, trying in vain to downplay what happened.

"Jazz, it's nothing. It doesn't hurt. He didn't mean it. He was just trying to get me to leave. I…I wasn't being very understanding. I forced us on him, he…he was more upset than I thought. Please, don't hurt him. Please, don't hurt my brother."

They exchange a look I don't understand and Alice nods sadly. He's disregarding his wife's plea and makes a quick phone call to Emmett.

I try to physically hold him in place because I know what they are going to do. I beg him, crying, yelling and screaming not to go. It's no use. Jasper insists to us both, "I'm just going to teach him a lesson. He should know better, and he needs to be reminded to never do it again."

There is a matter-of-fact, steel, cold anger to his voice that I have never heard before. Jasper was always the voice of reason. Apparently, where his wife is concerned, even Jasper can become irrational.

I try to explain that Edward knows what he did was wrong. "I saw it in his eyes, Jas. The moment he realized what he was doing, he stopped. He was devastated. Please, he knows he was wrong."

Still, he's leaving. Alice pulls me away. "Edward will be all right. This…this is a line that can't be crossed for Jazz. His dad…used to hurt his mom. I'm sorry…I'm sorry, Bella."

I don't want to talk to anyone. Everything has spiraled so far out of control.

These are all highly intelligent people who are acting like a bunch of thugs. Jasper won't be able to undo the pain his mom endured by hurting Edward. What the hell is happening here?

I call in sick for the next day at work. I can't take care of someone who is critically ill when I am so preoccupied with my own emotions that I can't focus. It would be too easy to make a critical mistake. The people that would be assigned to me don't deserve that.

I leave for my apartment alone and devastated. As much as I appreciate everyone's help, things have gotten out of control, and I need to be alone.

I don't want to talk to Jasper, with his bloody knuckles, or Emmett with his sad eyes, when they get back and ring my doorbell to speak to me. Two wrongs don't make a right. I don't condone what Edward did, but I saw the look on his face change from anger to horror as soon as he realized he was hurting Alice. He didn't mean to hurt her, only scare her to leave, I know it. Now he is physically hurt because of this as well.

Everything is falling down like so many dominos. I know how Edward thinks. His choices are now justified in his own mind, he feels that everyone is against him and he will promptly wash his hands of contact with all of his family except Kate.

Our end is set in motion, and now it has picked up speed like a run-away train. I have no idea how to stop it.

Now I will face one of what looks like many nights alone. I know that Edward's pride will now stand in the way of any communication. He will isolate himself from not only me, but now his entire family. I have no idea when this domino effect will end and what will be left when it does.

**A/N: It is quite an honor to be nominated on TLS and it's currently a tight race for me. If you have a moment, please vote, even if it isn't for this story. Triple w dot tehlemonadestand dot blogspot dot com. But it would please me greatly for you to vote for this underdog. Thanks.**


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: Here's a huge chapter to give you more answers and ulcers.**

**So consensus is the family should have stayed the hell out of it. E thinks so as well. Now he's washed his hands of them too. He's completely alone now and that's not going to be a good place for him. (So I didn't mean for you to despise them, sorry it came across too strong for some. I just needed you to realize it's no longer an option for E to go to them for help.)**

**Warning: I'm putting two breaks in the chapter, noted with a line across the page. It gives you the choice whether to read about some bad decisions E will be making, or skip over them. But we're all adults here, (God, I hope so) so I think we can handle it. The details are not crucial, but his changing mindset is.**

CHAPTER 22

Edward

The alarm rings at five thirty a.m. and I get ready for work after a brutal and painful night. My whole body hurts from Jasper's retribution, but I'd take this physical discomfort any day if it meant that I could wake up from this nightmare.

Even the nightmares came back again. Yet another thing in my life to cause me pain. I definitely was not drunk enough when I went to sleep. I'll remedy that tonight.

I woke up at one o'clock in a cold sweat and fell back to sleep at around four after another seven shots of vodka. Actually, I think I'm still a bit drunk. I'll just drink some extra coffee on the way to work. I have to be careful with that shit. I don't need any trouble at work by showing up half in the bag.

Thankfully, the purplish bruise that has bloomed on the side of my jaw is mostly concealed by the stubble that I have intentionally not shaved. Unfortunately, it is still somewhat noticeable. A couple people asked me if everything was all right and what happened to my face. I told them I had a mishap while wresting with my dog and his head slammed into the side of my face. It was feasible and all I could think of at the moment.

At least my face doesn't hurt that much, only when I chew. I wish I could say the same thing for my balls. But yeah, even they hurt when I chew.

That fucker, Jasper punted me hard. I'm walking like I just got off a horse.

I manage to get through the day relatively unscathed. I had a few close calls where, for a split second, I thought about how much better I'd feel once I got home to my girl. Then, the reality I forgot about for a few precious moments in time, came ferociously crashing back into my mind. She never really loved me after all, not like I thought she did. Most likely, she only felt sorry for me, like I was some kind of charity case for her.

Since I have no intention of everyone at work knowing much about my business, I try to paste on a neutral face to avoid any further suspicions.

For the most part, almost everyone I work with knows I have a girlfriend that used to be my nurse, and I'm crazy in love with her. My partner, Peter and the Chief Flight Nurse, Maria, know the most about my relationship with Bella. Neither are working today. They know about the plans I had for the past weekend. They just don't yet know how ridiculous I was for thinking those plans were actually possible.

The next time I see them, they'll surely ask how everything went and if we picked a date or something. I'll have to just let them know that it didn't work out. Hopefully they won't ask too many questions so I won't have to be rude, but I'll worry about that later.

Thankfully, I'm on my twelve hour shift for the week, not my twenty-four, which I am once again dreading. I have a sneaking suspicion that the lull in my nightmare frequency is over. There's a definite pattern that if I'm stressed or uptight, it's almost certain that I won't sleep through the night. I'm pretty sure that soon I will have a problem at work and everyone will know my shit. Not cool. The only solution is to avoid sleeping in the bunk room with everyone else. I will sleep in my car if I have to, and figure out some crazy excuse for it. If I stay up all night, every night I could risk falling asleep while I'm driving home and hurting innocent people.

The day ends with just enough work to keep my mind off of everything, but I'm still in pain. Every time I sit down, I wish I could rest my balls on an ice pack.

Just as I get off shift, Jasper calls my new cell. Against my wishes, it seems, Tanya has given out my number already. Bitch.

"Edward, how are you doin', man? I need to talk to you."

"I'm good, Jas. No worries. Just a little sore, but I've been worse. It's no big deal really, I get it. I don't have much time to talk about…"

He cuts me off. "Look, I needed to talk to you so I got your new number from Tanya. She tried to hold out but this was too important. Don't be mad at her.

"I'm sorry for everything. What I did last night didn't solve any problems. I shouldn't have hit you. I just swore to myself after my dad died that I would never allow another woman in my life to be hurt by the hands of someone that should love her. Especially, my wife. I was angry, but it wasn't the right way to deal with the situation. I was wrong. Are you okay?"

"No, man, you don't have to apologize. I fucked up. While I have you on the phone, I need to tell you I didn't intend to hurt her. Between being drunk and pissed, I didn't realize I was holding her that hard. There's no excuse, but just so you know, I never meant it. None of that matters anyway because I did it. And I'm sorry."

"I know, man, water under the bridge. But listen, both Emmett and I are concerned about you, dude. In fact, everyone is. How are you doing?"

"Yeah, man, no problems. I'm good. I'm really good."

"Edward, you do realize that just saying those words doesn't make it so. You can talk to us. We know you're far from good and Emmet and I coming over the other night didn't make it any better."

"Whatever, dude, look, I'm good, okay? I'm just gonna lay low for a while. I just gotta figure some stuff out for a bit and then I'll give you a call. We can hang out or something."

I have absolutely no intention of calling or hanging out, but I hope my offer sounds sincere.

"You don't have to do this alone, man. I hope you know that."

"Yeah, bro, s'all good. I'll be in touch. We'll go to the pub or something."

"Edward, I know you don't want to talk about this now, maybe not tomorrow or the next day, but whenever you want to, please call me, anytime. Day or night."

"No sense going over shit that's in the past, so there's nothin' really to talk about. It's over, no big deal."

He lets out an exaggerated sigh. "Please call me soon, Edward."

"Sure, bro. Later."

I hang up with a sense of relief. I don't need my brother in law, the shrink, to get all up in my business. Since Emmett seems to be his partner now, I have no intention of saying anything to him either. Fuck it. There is nothing to say anyhow. I don't need to think about any of that shit. It just makes me feel a hundred times worse when I think about everything.

A couple of times today, I felt so fucked up that I had no idea how I was going to make it through the next few minutes without losing my shit. I just want it all to go away—the pain the anger, everything. I wish it would just be over with, but I know this will be something that I will carry with me, to some extent, for the rest of my life.

I will never, ever let myself be that vulnerable again. Fucking bitch.

On the way home, I stop at the liquor store for more vodka. I know that you don't smell as bad after drinking vodka, so if I wake up still a bit drunk, at least I won't smell like it. I've come to the conclusion that vodka will be my new best friend.

Once I get home I pour myself a tall glass of water first, then some high end vodka with some ice, I splurged. No sense in drinking rotgut liquor. I will switch up water for vodka in equal amounts so I'm not so sick tomorrow, and yet I will sleep through the night. I skip dinner, but at least I ate breakfast and lunch today, which is a big improvement. Other than today, I don't think I ate one decent meal over the past three days.

I haven't run at all either. That's making me feel a bit on the nervous side. If I don't run or get to the gym at least a few times a week, I don't feel right. I make a promise to myself that once I wake up tomorrow and shake off any remnants of the hangover I may have, I will run at least eight miles, provided my balls can handle it. Even with compression underwear, that could be asking a lot. But I have to get back to my life, back to something normal. I have to just keep going one day at a time and never think about any of the shit that happened. Eventually it will get easier, especially as soon as my balls heal up and I never have to be reminded of that bitch anymore.

Half way through my second glass of vodka, I am starting to feel a little more relaxed up until my fucking doorbell rings. Since I didn't order takeout, whoever is on the other end of that door is probably here to cause me grief. Fuck!

I open the door and my sister is there. I'm grateful that her phony-tears, lying, whore, sidekick is not with her this time.

"Edward, I'm glad you're home. Oh my God, look at your face! Can I please come in?"

"No."

"Please, Edward, you have to know that I didn't tell Jasper anything. I didn't want him to come over here. Bella was begging him, hanging on him, pleading with him not to go, but he had it in his mind and we couldn't stop him. I'm so sorry. Please, I just wanted to make sure you're okay."

"I'm fine. Thank you. And I'm sorry that I hurt you. I didn't mean it."

"I know. Please let me come in for a few minutes."

"No. I really don't want to talk about this other than to apologize, so…I'm really sorry and now please leave."

"Why are you doing this? Why are you shutting everyone out?"

She is starting to cry already, and I don't need her to make a scene for the whole neighborhood to notice, so I try to speed this up.

"Alice, just go please. I don't want to talk and I don't want you crying on my porch for the whole street to hear."

"Please don't do this. You're my brother and I love you. We were always so close. Now you're treating me like an enemy."

"Look, you're not my enemy, but you chose her. No hard feelings. No big deal really. What-the-fuck-ever. I don't need anyone as a go-between, because I have nothing to say. Go back to her and let her cry her fake tears on your shoulder and lie to you even more. You're not needed here."

I tried to remain unaffected, but anger is starting to get the best of me. My hands involuntarily tighten into fists, my mouth feels dry, my heart rate and breathing spike, eyes focused, every muscle in my body is coiled tight and ready. Fight or flight mode in all its glory. But my sister is no threat to me physically, but the pain she can inflict is worse. I'll take Jasper and Emmet any day.

"For God's sake! She knows she made a mistake but you won't let her explain it. I'm so angry at her for what she did, but I know why she said those things and they were all lies! She didn't want Samantha to go back and tell Jessica about you and her. If Jessica wants to be spiteful, she could easily lie to Bella's boss and cause her a lot of problems at work. She didn't expect Sam to be there, and then she panicked. She asked Sam about a woman just to make it sound more convincing that you were just a friend. She knows what a horrible mistake it was to say all that. My God, you have to know it isn't true."

"Whatever. What's done is done. Now she doesn't have to worry about her job security because of me. Now that I'm gone, she should be happy. It worked out fine. It's all good."

"Edward! Why are you being so stubborn? Without a doubt, I am certain that she would quit her job tomorrow if she could just have as little as one more day with you. She is not doing well, at all."

She isn't doing well? From somewhere deep inside me, I feel a momentary twinge of sadness left over from a time where her happiness was my only concern. The red haze of anger eliminates it quickly, and I feel frustrated that I let my guard down long enough to feel any compassion for her.

I pull both my hands through my hair. I couldn't be more aggravated right now.

"Enough already! Just go the fuck home. Why the hell are you getting so far in the middle of this shit? It's none of your business anyway. Jesus, just go away. Please!"

"Because I love you and I know that if I don't follow through with this, you'll fade away and out of my life as well. You are my brother and that's not an option!"

She's getting louder so I open the door all the way and let her in. I don't plan on letting her stay long, but at this point, I'll do anything to quiet her down. If I thought I could get away with it, I'd shut the door in her face, but I haven't changed the lock yet, damn it.

"Fuck, Alice, you can come in for a few minutes, but not long."

"Thank you, thank you! I love you so much, little brother."

She swings her arms around my waist and pain from the bruises caused by her husband shoots through me as I grunt and flinch away.

"What did he do to you?"

"It's nothing. Don't worry about it."

I walk away into the living room, hoping she'll drop it. She follows me in, step for step.

"I can't help but worry about it. Your face is a mess and you're sore. Please tell me."

"It's not that bad, really. If the situation was reversed, I know I would have sent him to the hospital for at least a few days, so all in all..."

"Edward! Please tell me!"

"Alice, it's no big deal. I've had worse."

I sit down on the couch, now resigned to her inquisition. She sits down next to me.

"What about Emmett? Did Emmett hit you?"

"No, he just held me still and made sure I didn't fight back."

Her face twists in distress as she imagines the scene.

"Oh, God! How many times did my husband hit you?"

"Not much, honestly. Just once in the face, and then he whacked me in the kidneys and kicked me once in the balls. THAT was not cool. If you're gonna be mad at him, be mad at that. I can barely sit down, or stand up for that matter, or walk really...Shit, he kicks fucking hard. It's a good thing I have a kid already 'cause I think that shit is permanently damaged. But honestly, I deserved it. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you."

I give her a weak smile. I love my sister, I know she means well, but sometimes her personality doesn't leave room for subtlety. I never meant to hurt her. It's just that sometimes I feel so out of control when I get mad. Lately, it's gotten so much worse.

"And I didn't mean to make you so mad at me. I pushed you and I was wrong. I thought it was the only way you were going to listen is if we forced you to. You weren't ready. It's my fault, it was my idea. It's just that I know that you and Bella are meant to be and I feel that you are being so stubborn about this. I think you are overreacting.

"Okay, I get it, you should be mad at her, hell, I'm furious. But don't shut everyone out, especially not Bella. Talk to her, listen to her, communicate, Edward! She lied to Sam, that was her choice and we all know how wrong that choice was. She knows she made a mistake and she's so sorry. She can't stop crying, she's not eating..."

"Drop it, Alice, okay?" I don't want to hear anymore.

My jaw tenses over and over as I grind my teeth. She's getting me angry again. Why can't she see it? Why does she keep speaking about this?

"You're making a huge mistake, much bigger than hers. Please reconsider."

"Why won't you just drop it when I ask?" I take a few deep breaths, but nothing is calming me.

"Because if it were up to you, Edward, you'd never talk about it again and nothing will get fixed. Don't think I haven't wondered if this is just an easy out. Like maybe it was getting just a little too intense for you and you didn't want it anymore. Now you can walk away guilt free. Any rational person who really loved someone like you said you did would listen to reason. "

"There is no fixing! None!" The red haze is encroaching rapidly. I close my eyes and try to keep calm by regulating my breathing. It's a struggle.

"You think I wanted this? You think I wanted this!" I laugh maniacally at her suggestion.

"You don't know anything! You don't know SHIT! FUCK! Why do you have to do this? Why do you have to put your nose where it doesn't belong? Why?"

I stomp over to my room. Every footfall radiating up to my spine and back outward as unease, the closer I get to that small, square, black velvet box I considered throwing away in various ways, a dozen times since Friday. I have to control the emotions and rage that was merely in my periphery before. Now it has taken up residence in the center of my consciousness and could easily overwhelm me. I can never touch my sister or any woman, for that matter, in anger ever again. I say it over and over until I feel more in control.

"This is how much you don't know!" I toss the ring in its box at her. "I talked to her father last week. I drove out to see him. He gave me his blessing. I thought I was never so sure of anything in my whole life, Alice..." The anger is morphing into sorrow; I have to try to hold it together. It would be too easy to fall into all out devastation. This has to be avoided.

"How could I ask her to be my wife, if only the day before, she couldn't even admit to her friend that we were a couple? I was just on a different page. I thought she was there with me, I was wrong." I could barely get the words out from the pain gripping my chest as the tears gather in my eyes.

"Ohhhhhhhh, Edward!" she gasps. "Ohhhh God, no! I had no idea..." Her arms quickly embrace me again, but the pain in my heart overshadows any physical discomfort her hold can cause. I can't stop the agony that is now like a freight train barreling down on me.

"How was I so wrong? Why did she do this? Didn't she know this would kill me? I'm fucking dying here, Alice. I'm dying." I try to slow the tide of tears by gritting my teeth when I speak but it doesn't help. Now it has morphed into sloppy and ugly crying. The crying you do when your heart gets broken beyond repair. Alice broke my resolve and now all is going to hell. I have to sit down; my knees are not to be trusted.

I have to stop this, now. I can't let myself breakdown anymore like this. It's Alice's fault, she has to leave.

I manage to regain a small amount of my pride. "Alice, please go. I really need you to leave. I don't want to talk anymore, it hurts too much. You say you love me. If you do, you'll leave. Now. Please." She's crying almost as much as I am.

She ignores my pleas for what seems like forever, and I start to cry again as she holds me tighter. I'm physically and emotionally exhausted. I don't even know if I can still be considered a man after the way I'm crying now.

A few minutes later, I regain some composure. I get up to open the door and ask Alice if I could please be alone.

She wipes her tears away as well as mine and reaches up and touches my cheek tenderly. "I'll go, but you can't hide from this forever. Sooner or later you will have to acknowledge your feelings and not pretend like you and Bella never existed. When you do, remember you have a family who loves you very much. We'll all be there for you, Edward. You can count on that."

"Thanks, but it won't be necessary. I don't want to talk about this anymore, so please tell everyone to just let me be. I just need to keep to myself for a while until I start feeling better. Please tell Mom and Dad as well."

"Please don't shut us out."

"It's what's best for me now. I just can't let myself do this again. It hurts too much."

"I love you, Edward. Everyone loves you."

"Thanks, Alice."

With that she left, and I settled down into my bottle and a Xanax or two.

FL&SC

The next couple weeks drag on at an excruciatingly slow rate. Why is it that when you are miserable, time seems to stand still, prolonging your misery? Of course, when you are happy, time is so fleeting that you don't even have the presence of mind to remember all the details to keep them safe from the sadness that will overtake them, if given the chance.

Thankfully, no one has really bothered me, not even a phone call or text. Only a couple of voice mails from Mom asking me to come to dinner and that she loves me. I'm left to my own devices. Through Alice, I asked to be left alone and alone I am. It sucks, but I won't give in and make the first contact. I wanted this, and I got it.

I think spend more time drunk than sober. It tends to dull the pain. My medications don't seem to help much with my well-being…well, whenever I remember to take them. I wonder if I should even stop all together. I rarely see Cope anymore. Her receptionist calls to leave messages citing how long it's been since my last appointment— as if I don't have a calendar. Without all that shit that is supposed to help stabilize my moods, it's the first time in a long time I really don't feel much of anything, which is excellent. I think I'm doing well, considering my life is in the toilet.

I manage to stay sober for most of my shifts at work, but I need to stay in control and vodka seems to help me more than anything I have found to date. A couple drinks won't hurt much. I don't get plowed, just relaxed a bit. Especially for my double shifts. There is no way I would have managed to make it through the night without a little night cap. Thankfully we've been slow, so no harm, no foul.

A while ago, when I told Peter the condensed version about what happened, he gave me his condolences and his promise not to bring it up to me ever again. He's good like that. I wish I could say the same about my family.

Peter did tell me last week that he's starting to worry about me. I laughed in his face. I told him that I was worried about him, because at any moment, his wife of fifteen years can simply detach herself from his life without another thought about it. She could gut him for everyone to watch, while she laughs at him for ever caring in the first place. He tried to tell me I'm wrong, but I just sat there and felt sorry for the asshole. One day he'll see and then he'll be coming to me and saying I was right. Pussy-whipped moron—I used to be one of those. Never again.

As the days go by, work just seems to be something that gets in the way of me getting drunk. It's fucking annoying. I decide to keep a bottle or two with me as a safety blanket of sorts. Why the fuck not? A few drinks between jobs is no crime unless you get caught, and I don't intend on getting caught. It's not too much, just enough to keep me calm.

I really do think I'm doing much better, and I can thank my friend Grey Goose for that.

I decide to quit seeing that menace to my mental health, Dr. Cope all together. The fucker would probably just prescribe me another fucking useless pill to take anyway. Other than the Xanax, I've just about quit my medication too. Once in a while when I especially feel like shit, I'll take a handful with a few drinks. I don't care what anyone says, they seems to work better that way then taking them every day. Eventually I'll have to schmooze Dr. Cope again, just for a couple refills, but other than that, I don't have to tell her much. They never worked right anyway. They only seemed to make me more of a pussy if I took them all the time .Either that or I couldn't control my temper. One minute I was crying like a little girl, and the next, I wanted to punch something. I mean, what the fuck? What kind of pills claim to be mood elevators and stabilizers when all they do is make a grown man cry then beat something out of frustration for crying? They only made me look like an unstable pansy, which is probably why Bella never loved me. The vodka seems to do a much better job anyway.

Lately, as if I need any more shit in my life, Tanya is being a royal pain in the ass. Apparently she doesn't like the way I look and talk. She wants me to take some time off of "Dad detail" for a while until I can settle everything going on in my life. Whatever. I don't fight it. I miss my girl, but she probably shouldn't see her old man like this either. Nevertheless, I can't let this tear away at me.

All this shit just gives me more time to get drunk. Maybe now that my balls seem to have healed up, I should get laid. That will take my mind off of everything.

So I guess a few weeks of celibacy changed my mind from never imagining wanting to touch another woman again to needing a fuck puppet to make the pain go away. I don't want to think about anything except getting drunk and getting laid. As long as she's conscious, clean and over eighteen…my standards have seems to have lowered somewhat.

I don't know what the fuck I was thinking a few weeks ago. Then, I had no intentions of getting my dick wet ever again. I couldn't imagine it. I only wanted her. I thought no one else would ever take her place and all that sappy bullshit.

Honestly, did I think I would find a new calling and go into the priesthood or something? I can't believe I was willing to punish myself indefinitely because she never really loved me. I guess my head was so fucked up that I thought that maybe if I pined after her long enough that she would eventually find out that if I couldn't have her, I didn't want anyone. Then she would think I'm wonderful, miraculously change her mind about being with a man again, and then fall in love with me for real. I was out of my mind, but all is right now.

Now I realize women are all the same. They will just rip your heart out and spit in your face if you give them half a chance.

Fuck that bitch. In fact, I'm sure someone else, is fucking her already, so why should I go without? I don't fucking care. She got what she wanted and I'm not going to feel sorry for myself for the rest of my life. Nope, I'm getting laid.

I never had too much of a problem finding someone to hook up with before, and I don't anticipate it will be much of a problem now either.

Thinking back, I was in a much longer dry spell from sex toward the end of my marriage and for the first few months after my divorce until I could think straight again. I wouldn't even think about another woman. It lasted about a year, which is certainly a lot longer than a month. Then, I never really had too much of a problem with going to bed high, dry, and alone. Even when Maria offered, I'm sure I could have tapped her fine ass. I was an idiot. But right now, I'm not in a position to deny myself something that will make me feel better. I may have changed my mind about getting laid, but I will never change my mind about getting serious with a woman. Fuck that shit. I will never be vulnerable and fall in love again. It's just not worth it. NEVER AGAIN.

The next day I call out sick from work and make it a point to get myself better with a mix of alcohol and women.

I remember just how easy it is to get a girl if I want...and I want. I find one at a bar that I have only been to a couple times because there are too many college kids there, and it gets really fucking loud which means I must be getting old.

I take a look around and a couple dozen young, pretty girls, all with their own stories and their own secrets. None of them look even remotely like her. Good.

I sit down at the bar alone with a bourbon and ice just taking in my surroundings, acclimating to the environment. Before my drink is finished, the bartender puts another in front of me and points in the direction of a relatively cute blonde from which it came. With a grin creeping up one side of my face, I move closer.

I don't ask her name and she doesn't offer one either. Fine by me. I know her intent is similar to mine so we leave the bar and I tell her to follow me back to my place. Inside I don't even get a chance to offer her a drink before she has her hands on my crotch.

She smothers her face on mine and while my dick is getting hard for the first time in a long while, but my stomach is turning. I don't want to kiss this stranger who is far too rough with her lips and her hand. She feels all wrong, smells all wrong and tastes like cigarettes and beer. Nothing is right.

She unzips my pants and pulls out my cock which is up and ready to go, noticing the first attention he's gotten in a long time, but my heart continues to pound out of control. The blood thunders through my ears, the voices in my head yelling at me that this is all wrong. It's the only thing I can hear. I feel like I'm on the verge of a panic attack.

She drops to her knees and pulls all of me into her mouth. I look down as she rapidly moves over me. She hums as if this is enjoyable, but I can feel nothing but repulsion and fear. I pull away from her.

"STOP! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?" I yell at her, frightened by the ferocity of my own voice. I can't do this. I can't catch my breath.

"I was trying to suck your cock, asshole. You have a problem with that?"

"Uhm, look. I need you to leave, okay? Just get the fuck out of my house." I say as I'm tucking myself back in and zipping up my jeans.

"What the fuck is your problem? You a freak or something? Yeah, asshole, I'll get the fuck out. No problem, faggot."

I barely notice as the door slams and her car speeds out of the driveway.

My hands are shaking and tingling. I feel like I'm going to vomit. I need a Xanax.

After somehow managing to gather the supplies that will calm this cloud of unwelcome terror beginning to envelop me, a small flush of relief pricks at my consciousness when I look at the pill I have one hand, and a bottle of bourbon in the other. I take a long swallow of the amber liquid first. It goes down, pleasantly burning along the way. Then, without much warning, my stomach revolts. It comes back up much more painfully. I suddenly purge everything in my stomach onto the floor as I jump back, hardly successful at dodging the brunt of it.

In my shock, I drop the contents of both hands as they continue to shake harder, more maliciously. My body is repelling against giving my mind an easy reprieve.

"FUCK!" I yell, barely able to refill my chest with air after the expletive.

I try to wipe my face with the back of my unsteady hand, it's a purposeful movement that the small portion of my mind that isn't losing control, allows me to take.

It's all too overwhelming. The pain in my chest, the breathing, the tingling of my hands and face. I'm losing it quickly.

I drop to my knees trying to reclaim my salvation from the mess my floor and my life have become.

My actions are too jerky. I can't…I can't do it. I can't control anything. I try to pick up the tablet, unsuccessfully. I give up as I can no longer contain the flood of fear overtaking my mind.

The only relief now comes from the fact that I know I won't die from this. There is no evading the inevitable as I curl up with my arms wrapped around my knees, against the wall. There is no other choice but to allow the dread to run its course.

**FL&SC**

My memories of the incident thankfully fade away rather quickly as the days pass. Distractions made possible alcohol and benzos allow me to regain control and smother the scared, pathetic little boy that I used to be.

I try again, two weeks later for the only other distraction I need. My resolve is no longer wavering. I take a Xanax BEFORE leaving the house.

Her name is Sarah. She's cute, has big tits and questionable taste in hair coloring. The ends are blond but the rest of her head is the most unnatural red color. I ask her how old she is and she tells me twenty-one. Perfect. She knows the deal, and I take her back to my place. She talks and giggles too much, but she should quiet down a bit with my cock in her mouth.

She is fucking louder than necessary, but I manage to get off a couple times. It's hollow, empty, and meaningless, which is just the way I want it. I'm not proud to admit to myself that the only way I was going to come the last time we fucked was if I thought of "her." I'm surprised it worked because it certainly didn't feel like "her."

It's pretty sick, and I've come to the conclusion that I'm really fucked up. I can't think too much about it or I'll get physically ill again, so I don't.

This entire night barely passed for tolerable, which is saying a lot because I haven't gotten off in quite some time. But, despite this girl's ridiculous hair color, she's nice to look at naked, and she seems to be willing to do almost anything I want.

I don't have any more condoms or else I would see if she is game to let me fuck her in the ass. She says that I will have to invite her over again when I get a new box. Hell, damn straight I will. With that, she gets dressed and gets ready to leave. The sex is over, now she's leaving. This girl is perfect. Too bad the sex is barely mediocre, but even lousy sex is better than no sex. I guess that's what that fucking bitch thought as well when she was naked with me…pretending she was all into the sex. She also lied to my face and told me she loved me. That's what fucks me up the most. The bitch shouldn't have lied about that.

Sarah tells me to give her a call soon. I shake my head from side to side to stop thinking about the woman who tore me apart while this other woman who just finished riding my dick is trying to talk to me.

Hell, I tell her I'm thinking about calling her tomorrow. Secretly I mentally have my fingers crossed that she accepts, and that the next time she opens her legs for me, I'll enjoy what she has to offer a little bit more.

She smiles and says she will be here a week from today at six, with a friend.

She clarifies almost instantly that her friend is a girl. My expression goes from concern, to relief, to absolutely fucking thrilled within the span of two seconds. Fucking awesome.

That should bump it up from average to fucking great. Good thing I mentally crossed my fingers, it worked like a charm. I can't wait. Now I just have to get through the next seven days.

Over the next week while I wait for Sarah and her friend, pickins' are slim, but I manage to find another cute little college girl by the name of Maggie. She's a bit shy and I can't be sure why, but I don't think she is as enthusiastic as a lot of her peers.

I take her back to my bedroom and I try and get her to relax, but to no avail. I won't kiss anyone on the mouth again, I think that's what did me in during that first disastrous time I tried to get laid again, but I do kiss her neck.

All this just feels so fucking wrong, but if it gets me laid then hell, I'll do it. She goes with it, but tenses up when I lay her down and start touching her. I have to stop. She apologizes and says she's a bit shy. I try to get her to relax by rubbing her shoulders. It must seem as lecherous to her as it does to me, because it doesn't work.

I feel bad, but I'm thinking she really has to lighten up or get the fuck out.

I don't say that, of course. In fact, on some level, her hesitance is a bit endearing. Only, this is Edward Cullen two point oh and I no longer operate on that level; it serves me no purpose. Maybe I can try not to be a complete asshole and maybe just talk to the girl. It wouldn't hurt, it just wouldn't get me off either, but at this point, it doesn't look like that is gonna happen anyway.

She tells me that she's never really had a one night stand before and she's scared.

I wanted to get laid, but damn, I can't expect this girl, who is probably a nice kid, to go through with this if she's scared. I'm not the boogey man, but I kinda-sorta get where she's coming from. She's not like the others. They jump all over me first. I feel like a creep just taking her back here knowing that.

We sit on my bed and talk for a couple hours; she even laughs a bit. She talks about college and her past boyfriend who she just broke up with because he was cheating on her. She basically pours her heart out to me, and afterward she thanks me for taking the time to listen. It is almost two a.m. when she leaves, and she gives me a kiss on the cheek, calling me a nice guy.

Huh.

She asks for my phone number and I am a bit reluctant, but I give it to her before she leaves. I don't need a friend; I just need to get laid. I hope she knows that. Damn women. I get mistaken for a doormat too often.

The next day Maggie calls me to thank me again for listening. She asks to meet me at the bar, and I reluctantly agree. I'm glad I did because after buying me a drink, she says she can't stay long. She asks me to walk her out to the parking lot where she gives me a blowjob in my car. That was the last I heard from her. Damn, I am one lucky bastard.

My week of waiting is up, and the next night is fucking wild with Sarah and the friend she mentioned, Nessa. They take turns sucking and riding my cock, as well as each other. They like to party and they definitely remind me that I'm not twenty-one anymore, but with a little effort, I manage to keep up.

Ecstasy, marijuana and Tequila are a hell of a combination, but damn if I didn't feel like a million bucks all night with two fucking hot college girls in my bed. The X seems to have helped a little with Junior's recent shortcomings, because while it still isn't even close to great, it isn't entirely lousy either. For a good part of the night, they manage to entertain themselves, quite adeptly, while I watch. So there's always that…Anyway, I kind of feel used by the end of the night, which is at a level of irony that I don't want to think too long and hard about.

Apparently the mark-up on booze, drugs and their time is quite considerable. They aren't whores but they ask for some compensation for the shit they brought over. While I think three hundred dollars is pretty steep, for a couple hours, they managed to keep my mind off of all the other shit floating around in it, and to me, that's priceless.

It's almost five a.m. by the time they are finished with me and out the door. I take a hot shower and collapse into my bed. Less than two hours later I hear a phone ringing. For a second, I think I'm dreaming, and it mercifully stops. But, a minute or so later I hear it again. This time, my house phone is making noise.

I pick up the phone and my stomach sinks to my feet. It's the medic from the night shift at work, no longer wondering if I got held up in traffic since I picked up my house phone. My shift starts at seven sharp; it's already seven fifteen. Apparently I am scheduled to be in for twenty-four hours today, and I completely forgot.

I'm never late. In fact, in my line of work, if you aren't at least fifteen minutes early for the start of your shift, you're late. No one wants to get banged out on a flight five minutes before their shift starts because their relief isn't in until exactly six fifty nine.

FUCK!

I have to go in or else I'll be in serious trouble. Fuck! I don't even have a clean flight suit, and that's the least of my problems. I'm so far from sober that I won't be able to safely, or legally, operate a vehicle to get there. Oh God, I'm still drunk, high and add to that, exhausted. It's not a good combination for any job, let alone mine.

I hope it's slow today.

I get to work over an hour late, unshaved and I didn't have time to pack any food. I don't think anyone is cooking today so I have to get by on the station's junk food for the next twenty-four hours. Great.

I apologize to Tyler, my partner for the day. Peter is off today, so at least I'll avoid any uncomfortable questions. Tyler is a good guy and he doesn't pry, especially since I'm typically not very forthcoming with much personal information to just anyone. He's looking at me funny though, and I wonder if he could tell that I'm not exactly sober. Shit.

The pilot, Sam, is also giving me the stink-eye. I think I'm fucked.

About an hour and a half later the Chief Flight Nurse, Maria, punches in and immediately asks Tyler and then Sam into her office. She comes out to ask me how I am doing and makes small talk for a few minutes. She goes back into her office and it doesn't take long after that for her to be changed from office clothes into a flight suit. She then calls me in for a sit down.

"Edward, you are excused for the rest of the day. Sick time will be applied to your hours and I'm taking your place on the aircraft."

"Why? No. Really, I'm okay. I just forgot about the shift and I didn't get much sleep last night so I'm a little under the weather, but if you just let me drink a couple more cups of coffee I'll be fine. I promise."

"Edward, please, I have known you for a while and I have a lot of respect for you. Don't lie to me today. That respect was earned, not entitled, and at this rate, it may be temporary. Go to the bunk room for three or four hours and then go home. You're excused."

"I don't have a say in this then?"

"Believe me—you don't want a say right now. You and I are going to have a talk on your next shift which is in three days. Do you understand me?"

"Yes." I cower like a scolded child.

"Good, now go to the bunk room and sleep it off for a few hours."

Fuck! She knows I'm fucked up. I could have been fired, or at a minimum, suspended, if she suspected that I was unfit for duty and made me piss in a cup. There is a zero tolerance policy on that shit, especially for the pilots. They get randomly tested, but they are within their right to be just as strict with the medical staff as well. Instead, she just picked up my shift, and she's making me sleep it off before she sends me home.

After this, everyone will know. She's going to lecture me that I have to get my shit together, but honestly I don't really fucking care. All I have to do is show up at work and do it sober. Fuck everything else. I am grateful that she didn't push the issue, but I don't need a lecture either.

By the time I leave to go home I feel like I was run over by a bus. The day turned out to be ridiculously busy. I would not have been in any shape to deal with it, so I really owe Maria. She really helped me out this time.

The next couple days are a blur of booze and sex. I hook up with Nessa without Sarah once which was barely sufferable. I didn't want to go to my place again because I think one of them clipped my watch the last time they were there. I can't find it anywhere and I don't think it's a coincidence.

We end up in some cheap motel that has seen its share of bad decisions, the stale smell of cigarette smoke permeating every grimy surface.

I look around the room at the beige striped wall paper and worn out brown carpeting that has more stains on it than it has clean spots. The bed is covered in a generic beige bed spread and the bed linens are white and thankfully have the faint smell of bleach. Nevertheless, in the back of my mind, I'm counting down the moments to get home and into my shower.

After we fuck once, I make up some ridiculous excuse that I have to leave early because I know that there is no way that I would be able get it up again without divine intervention.

I feel like I've stooped to a new low when I vacate the room after only an hour and hand back the key to the overweight, balding man working the desk. He leers at me with a knowing smirk. I'm sure he's seen thousands of assholes just like me bringing some girl they paid for back here, trying to hide their shame or their wedding band, but this kind of shit was never my scene before.

I just don't feel the need to spend a lot of money on a decent hotel if I'm just going to use their bed to fuck some bitch that I can't trust enough to bring back to my house. I guess I'd just as well get used to it though. I'm not in a very trusting mood lately, especially of women.

The next day I meet this other girl at a bar who doesn't want to know my name, nor does she want to tell me hers; she just wants to fuck. I call her my new dream woman. After a brief internal debate, I take her to that same cheap motel. Fat balding guy is there again, and this time he smiles and winks at me when I check in. I want to punch him in the throat for making this difficult. I have to find a new place in the future.

Good thing I didn't splurge and spend too much money on the accommodations because the sex sucks. I try to blame it on the tequila but I'm not really that drunk. She just doesn't feel good. It's all wrong. Maybe next time I will make a point to drink more instead of less.

I eventually get off, but I'm not really into it. She had to suck my cock for a couple minutes before I could even get it up, and I had to have her suck me off, otherwise, I don't think it was going to happen. Lucky for me, she's a good sport but she probably thinks I have some kind of oral fetish, because if it wasn't for her mouth, I couldn't come if my life depended on it. I could barely stay hard. Maybe I need a prescription for some Viagra or some shit. She is not my new dream woman after all.

The next day I'm in work and I'm sober, freshly shaved, and I even shined my boots. I'm a new man. I have to be. I'm officially not only on the radar, but under the microscope. This Edward is going to be a good boy.

I can't lose my job. I'll never be able to pay all my bills on just my compensation from the FD. If I got fired, I would be black-balled and have a hard time finding another job in my field. My savings would dry up in no time. I would probably have to sell my rental properties and things would go to shit within a relatively short period of time. I can't do that to Kate. She will get everything I have when the time comes. I need to provide for her, and God knows no one will take up my life insurance policies now. Between my job as a flight medic, which is on a whole new scale of expensive coverage, and my pre-existing medical problems after the fire, the only life insurance I am eligible for is the policy I already have in place and the one from work. If I get fired, I would be down to one. She won't get anything from her mother who lives paycheck to paycheck, so everything she gets has to come from me.

If I do nothing else in life, I have to provide for my child. That, and prove to my father that even if I'm not taking in the same paycheck as a doctor, I'm not a failure.

Ironically, I've never felt like more of a failure than I do now. Again, I'm having a hard time putting that shit between my dad and I to bed. Old habits and all.

I get in and start a pot of coffee before going about checking my equipment and starting my day. Shortly after my first cup of coffee, both my boss Paul and Maria show up. Usually, their day in the office doesn't start for another two hours. I know that they are both here this early to talk to me and I don't like it. I thought this was just between Maria and me.

They barely acknowledge me as they walk into the office area and close the door. I feel like I'm going to lose it, and I really wish I could run out to my car and grab the bottle I have in there for just a little drink. I don't think I ever needed one as much as I do now.

They've been in there talking behind the closed door for over an hour. I swear I'm breaking out into a sweat. I already managed to scuff up my boots, so I re-shine them. I check and recheck the equipment in the ship. I try to keep myself busy around the hangar, but it's no use. I'm a wreck.

As I try to remain calm, I remember that Peter texted me last night that he couldn't commute with me today but he didn't mention why. I bet he knows something is up because he has been busy on the computer, steering clear of me today. I want to ask him what he knows, but I refrain out of shame and embarrassment.

I'm probably getting suspended, maybe fired. FUCK! I need a drink.

They won't notice one drink. It's vodka. They can't smell it. If I have just one to calm me down, at least I won't look like a strung out basket case when they call me in for their stupid fucking meeting. That makes all the sense I need, so I go to my car and take a couple of mouthfuls followed by a piece of gum.

Better.

Another hour goes by and still they don't call me into the office. I don't know why Paul is here anyway. This is between Maria and me.

Some marginal weather has come in and we had to turn down an on scene request just a little while ago. I don't think the weather will be getting much better so I think it would be okay if I sneak out to my car for another shot. It's going to be a long day without anything to keep me busy, and the little bit I had this morning is no longer doing my nerves any good. This stuff goes down real smooth lately, and it is a Godsend for situations just like this.

Fuck them both for trying to make me sweat it out. I know that's what they are doing.

They know I have no choice but to wait for them, so they like to play these fucking games to show me who has the fucking power around here.

Fuck them. I'll just get another fucking drink. I just won't drink anything tomorrow, or maybe even the next day. Wait, never mind. Fuck that, I'll drink whenever I damn well please.

They call Peter into the office. WHAT. THE. FUCK. I'm really screwed. Oh shit, I feel like I am going to fucking lose my shit. I really think I'm in pretty big trouble here.

I need to talk to my dad. He may be able to help. It's worth a shot. He's got a lot of pull. We all work through the same hospital, and I think that is half the reason they found a spot for me here when I was ready to come back to work full time.

He answers on the second ring.

"Dad, are you busy?"

"No, Son. Call me anytime. How are you? Your mother keeps leaving voicemail messages and you aren't calling her back. She wants to see you, Edward. We both do."

A mix of worry and frustration shade my voice. "I know, Dad, and I'm sorry. I'll call her soon. Look, Dad, I need yer' advice, or help, or somethin'."

"You don't sound too good, Son. Tell me what's going on."

"I think I'm in big trouble at work and I can't lose my job, I jus' can't."

"Explain why you think you're in trouble."

"I was late goin' into work one day 'cause I forgot I had work that morning. I was hung-over an' I guess my partner told my supervisor, an' she came in ta' work for me, an' then she sent me home."

"Are you hung-over today as well?"

"No, Dad! I was s'posed ta have a meetin' today and they're makin' me wait a long time and talkin' to eve'yone else firss. I 've a bad feeling."

"Well, I can't really influence their decision making, but I know you've always been a good employee. That should carry you through at least part of the way. And when you say you were hung over, did you have a headache? Were you sick? If you were sick, they shouldn't penalize you for not feeling well."

"Yeah, I wuz sick. Thas right. Fuck them, I wuz sick!" I feel better now that my dad cleared that up for me.

"Son, I am going to ask you a question and I need you to be honest with me, do you understand?"

I don't like the tone of his "do you understand?" question. He pulled that shit when I was a kid. I'm annoyed and I hear it in my voice instantly. My dad, on the other hand, pretends he's tolerant, but I know he despises me.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

"Edward, I mean it. If you're taking this seriously then you need to be honest with me. I can't help you otherwise."

"Okay, Dad! Okay!"

"Your words sound rather slurred. Were you drinking this morning?"

"Fuck, Dad, can you give me a fuckin' break here? I'm asking your advice for God's sake."

I knew it. I knew that shit when I got out of the hospital was all an act. Fuck him.

"I don't appreciate your language. Answer my question."

"You know what, Dad? Juss forget it. I'll figure this shit out myself. Sorry if I bothered you. But don' worry, I won' do it again."

I hang up on whatever else he was trying to say and turn my phone off. God damn it! I have to get him out of my mind. One problem at a time…I can do this.

Despite my own reassurances my anxiety is threatening to go through the roof. All I can do is pace the empty hangar with my hands locked behind my neck and my arms over my ears. I slip out to the parking lot and grab the bottle from my car really quickly for another sip. I just need to calm down, otherwise I'll blow it for sure. I remember that I have my script for Xanax with me so I take one of those as well.

Within ten minutes I start to feel so much better. Thank God.

I think I'll sit and relax for a bit. I go to the chair near a desk on the side of the hangar which is completely separate from the office area, kitchen crew room and bunks. I want to stay as far away from those assholes as possible.

My nerves are frayed because of everyone's bullshit head games. Why does everyone feel the need to preach to me?

I put my feet up. My worries fade into the distance and relaxation takes over. The next thing I know, someone is shaking me. I reluctantly open my eyes; it's Maria. I try to focus on her but I feel so comfortable. She shakes me again and yells my name. Damn woman.

"Edward, what the fuck are you doing? Get your ass in the office now, and if you want to keep your job you'd better damn well hope you are sober by the time you get there!"

"No problem, Maria. I haven't been sleepin too well 'cause 'a my nightmares, I must've juss dozed off for a minute."

"Stop. Stop right there. What do you think you're doing here, Edward? Do you think this is a joke? Have you gone mad? Do you think that your job isn't already hanging by a fucking string?"

She's so little standing in front of me, wagging her finger at me trying to act so tough while she has a cute little scowl on her face, like she can actually physically harm me. I want to laugh at her, but I think better of it. She probably wouldn't see the humor in it. But I can't help the lopsided grin that sneaks onto my stubbled face.

Her accent gets thicker when she's angry and she tends to speak really fast so it's all I can do to understand what she's saying. That, and I think I'm drunk. Fuck! All of a sudden, I don't want to laugh anymore. My grin fades. Worry courses through me and I realize I'm in trouble.

"Paul is in there and he wants you to piss in a cup. If I vouch for you, he may not force the issue. Right now, I don't know what the hell is going on with you but I really don't want to see you lose your job. That means you have to be completely honest with me.

"Would you piss clean? Tell me the God's honest truth or I swear to God, you'll regret it. If I try to save your job and go to bat for you, I need your honesty. If you lie to me, I swear, Edward, I'll lie to upper management with a smile on my face and say you sexually harassed me. You'll be out on your ass in a heartbeat. I'll give you one more chance because I have faith that whatever's going on with you is temporary. This isn't you. You're a good employee and one of the best medics I know. I've know you for years and you never had this problem before, but you need to be straightforward with me now and get your shit together soon.

"Now answer me this one question truthfully. Would. You. Piss. Clean?"

"No." I swallow down hard, even though my mouth is completely dry.

"What are you on, Edward?"

I stand up and start to pace. "I've juss been under some stress lately..."

"I didn't ask for your excuses, I asked what you are on, right now and the day I sent you home."

"A lot of shit. But I'll clean up, okay?"

"What shit, Edward? I'm a big girl, tell me."

"Today, vodka and a Xanax. You guys are stressin' the shit outta me." I turn as I tell her the truth, I can't look her in the eyes. I know the disappointment I'll see there.

She reaches up and grabs my shoulder to turn me to face her. I flinch and my hands ball into fists spontaneously. "You drank this morning?"

My hands relax, but it's the only part of my body that I can say that about."Only a leettle bit. I needed the Xanax though, they're 'ascribed ta me for anziety."

"What about the other day?"

"The other day I forgot I hadda work in da morning."

"Again, I didn't ask for your excuses. Tell me what you were on, God damn it!"

There it is, the disappointment. She can't even hide it and I don't even care.

"Tequila, weed and X." I don't think she was expecting that for an answer because the disappointment changes to surprise. Fuck it! She can judge me all she wants. She was the one that tried to hit on me when I was still married. Fucking glass house-living bitch.

"So you won't piss clean today, even aside from the booze and the benzos?"

"No." I'm tired of her fucking questions!

"Go home, Edward. I'll talk to Paul. I'll tell him you're not feeling well and I'll cover for you. Again! He may sidestep me and have you come in tomorrow morning anyhow. If he does, there's nothing more I can do. You're screwed. At this point consider yourself suspended pending any further decisions."

My moods are changing so quickly. Confusion over takes me momentarily, only to be muted by a surge panic.

"No, Maria, please. I swear to ya, I'll do better. Please don'. Please don' fire me, please. Oh God, this is all I've left, I won be able to provide for my daughter utherrwize. No, please ya can't do this, God no, Maria, I'm beggin you."

"Edward, you have to go home. I'll call Alice to pick you up."

"NO! No...please. I'm okay...don't. I'll go, please, Maria! Please, this is all I have left. I'm begging you, don't take it away from me." I pace back and forth frantically.

"I haven't taken anything from you, Edward. I'm not responsible for your mistakes. You have only yourself to blame. I'll try to do some damage control, but I can't make any promises. Today is what...Monday. You can expect to hear from us by the end of the week and you may need to come in tomorrow for a urine sample. I will try to have him skip that, but I can't promise you that I'll be successful. Either way, you can't drive in this condition."

I leave before Maria can physically stop me. She is yelling at me to stop, pissed that I'm getting in my car, but she didn't stand in front of me, so I get away, clean.

I can't have Alice come pick me up like a troubled teen. My mind is spinning. I'm going to lose my job if that call comes tomorrow. Both X and weed can take a three or four days to clear. If I used that shit often, then it would take even longer, but still, if I have to piss tomorrow, I'm fucked.

I don't know how I get home. Somehow my car seems to take me there. I can't think clearly.

I try to imagine a way to pay my bills and still provide Kate with a home and an education. It's not easy as it is since the new school has raised their tuition rates this year, but in the long run, as long as she continues to do well, this will ensure that she gets into an excellent college. That's all that matters. Kate is all that matters. Fuck my dad.

I find a new bottle of bourbon that will do nicely as I await my fate.

**A/N: Regardless of my intentions, everyone has their own interpretation of the events and characters of the story. But I hope you are beginning to see a pattern of behavior here. Remember, I don't hate him, he's just temporarily broken. I think that's now abundantly clear.**

**Also, Imma be busy with work stuff this week. You know, my other full time job which isn't fanfic that I collect wages from? Well, I'll be away at a convention for a few days (which is a ridiculous amount of fun, I think it may be even more so for my job). So that means it may be a slow week for updates and review replies until I can catch up. Sorry.**


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